Night's Pretend
by SylverFyre
Summary: MP finally decides to fight for the one thing she thought she could never have. A happily ever after with J. However, she has to confront a mythical figure to get his soul back. J's life, unfortunately, just took a turn for the worst. Ch8 is finally here!
1. Chapter One

The Dark-Hunters are © by Sherrilyn Kenyon. You can visit her website @ www.hunterlegends.com

The song "Bring Me to Life" was written by A. Lee, B. Moody and D. Hodges (which is the band Evanescence in case you didn't know) and is © 2003.

Synopsis: An angsty crossover between The Pretender and Dark-Hunters (a series of books by the aforementioned author). Major character deaths, so don't hate.

*Dark-Hunter's Creed  
**Bring Me to Life**  
*I am Darkness. I am Shadow.**  
**How Can You See into My Eyes like   
Open Doors Leading You down Into My Core  
***I am the Ruler of the Night****.**  
**Where I've become so numb  
Without a Soul My Spirit Sleeping Somewhere Cold   
Until You Find it there and Lead It Back Home   
***I, alone, stand between mankind and those who would see mankind destroyed.**  
**(Wake Me Up)  
Wake Me Up Inside  
(I can't wake up)  
Wake Me Up Inside  
(Save me)  
Call My Name and   
Save Me from the Dark   
***I am the Guardian. **  
**(Wake me up)  
Bid My Blood to Run   
(I can't wake up)  
Before I Come Undone  
(Save me)  
Save me From the Nothing I've become   
***The Soulless Keeper. **  
**Now That I Know What I'm without  
You Can't Just Leave Me Breathe Into Me and  
Make Me Real Bring Me to Life   
***Neither Human, nor Apollite, I exist beyond the realm of the Living, beyond the realm of the Dead. **  
** (Wake me up)  
Wake Me Up Inside  
(I can't wake up)  
Wake Me Up Inside  
(Save me)   
***I am the Dark-Hunter.**  
**Call My Name and Save Me from the Dark  
(Wake me up) Bid My Blood to Run  
(I can't wake up)  
Before I Come Undone  
(Save me)  
Save me From the Nothing I've become  
(Bring me to life   
I've been living a lie   
There's nothing inside Bring me to life)   
***And I am Eternal…unless I find the one pure heart who will never betray me.**  
**Frozen Inside without  
Your Touch without Your Love Darling   
Only You Are the Life among the Dead**  
*The one whose faith and courage can return my soul to me and bring me back into the light.**   
**All This Time I Can't Believe I Couldn't See   
Kept In the Dark but You Were There In Front of Me   
I've been Sleeping a Thousand Years It Seems  
Got To Open My Eyes to Everything   
Without A Thought without a Voice without a Soul   
Don't Let Me Die here there must be something More  
Bring me to life

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter One

Jarod couldn't believe it.

"Who should be first, do you think, Jarod? Charles? Sydney?" the psycho who had not only captured him, but his family as well asked as he shot both through the heart with the gun he held in his hand. Both died almost instantly.

"Which was more of a father to you, Jarod? Whose death is more painful to you?" he asked, knowing Jarod wouldn't answer.

Jarod screamed in agony, then hung his head, and tried not to cry.

Emily and Ethan were the next to go. The gunshots echoed strangely in his head. This time he couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face.

"Oh god, Jarod," his mother whispered as the gun swung in her direction, "I love you," she murmured as the shot rang out and she slumped over, the blood staining her shirt.

"You sonofabitch!" Jarod screamed.

Angelo looked Jarod straight in the eye and smiled softly at him. In that moment, Angelo was never more beautiful or more out of touch with reality, Jarod thought.

"Don't cry, Jarod. The goddess is coming," he mumbled softly as the gun was pointed at his chest. The shot exploded out of the barrel and Angelo slumped over, a small, enigmatic smile still on his face.

"I swear to God I will kill you, you psychotic bastard," Jarod swore softly as he was suddenly looking down the barrel of the gun, watching his death in the eyes of his killer.

"I want you not only to die, but to suffer as no other has suffered. I hope you rot in hell, you arrogant asshole!"

When the shot rang out, it hit Jarod in the stomach. The pain was blinding and unreal. He gasped, but couldn't catch his breath. He felt his own blood slowly oozing out of him, along with his life. 

Rage darkened his vision, which was already being swallowed by death itself. His soul cried out for vengeance. Ever since his escape, he had been claiming revenge for those unable to claim it for themselves. It couldn't end like this for him!

Or for his family.

"This isn't over between us," he swore, gasping for his last breath, "This… isn't… over…"

The pain disappeared as his soul separated from his body and he watched his killer check his pulse. Satisfied that Jarod was indeed dead, he walked away from all of the destruction and death he had wrought.

Jarod walked over to each of the victims of this tragedy. His rage building, his pain increasing, as he knew each of his loved ones had found peace at last. But never for him. There would never be any peace for him. A flash appeared to his left as he bent over his mom and kissed her cooling brow. His final goodbye.

"I will give you one night of vengeance if you will promise to give me your soul for eternity and become one of my Dark-Hunters," a beautiful woman told him. She was wearing a long, flowing, white gown and her auburn hair was piled on top of her head and cascaded down her back in a classic Grecian style.

He was stunned; "Who are you?" Jarod wondered.

The beautiful woman regarded Jarod a moment; "I am Artemis, the Goddess of the Hunt."

It was Jarod's turn to frown, "THE Artemis? Of ancient Greek mythology?"

"I am not a myth," she told him archly.

His mind reeled. More than a little curious and not to mention very confused, he asked, "What is a Dark-Hunter?"

"A Dark-Hunter is a soulless warrior who walks the darkness, protecting the humans from the Daimons, mortal. Will you accept my bargain, or not? One night of vengeance on your murderer and I hold your soul for all of eternity. What will it be?" she demanded.

He thought of his loved ones who had been murdered in front of his very eyes. The impotent rage he felt returned. He ground his teeth with the agony of knowing his family and friends were forever out of his reach.

"All right," he nodded slowly, "I agree to give you my soul for one night of vengeance," he paused, "But I also want to know exactly what I am agreeing to," he added a moment later.

"All will be explained to you, mortal. Tonight you may take your revenge against your murderer," she told him. She walked over to the empty shell that was his body and touched the mortal wound that had killed him. 

Instantly he was pulled back into his body. They were in another room. An empty room. There was no pain in his body now he noticed, only in his heart.

"Stay away from the sun, Dark-Hunter," she commanded him, "Rest until the darkness calls you," she murmured, waving her hand over him and causing him to fall asleep.

*******

He could feel the sun setting; feel the strange energy coursing through his veins. He opened his eyes to the darkened room and could see perfectly in the darkness, it comforted him. Instinctively he knew where to find his murderer, could sense him, smell him and taste him. His legs ate up the ground to the door. He smiled in anticipation, and then stopped. His canines were elongated; he put a finger against the left one to test it. It was sharp and more like a predator's than a mere humans.

What kind of bargain had he struck?

He shook away the strange emotions he was feeling. All he wanted was to hunt down his killer and take his revenge. Not only for himself, but also for his family. His keener senses told him where to find that man. He stalked through the halls of the Centre and all he could think about was wrapping his hands around his killer's neck and squeezing until there was no more life left in that body.

He crept past Broots' office, seeing the Tech was still hard at work. Almost there.

He rounded a corner and saw the closed door that would bring him to his killer. He slowly turned the handle so there was no sound as he crept into the office and looked down at the man who had destroyed any happiness he might have found, any peace he may have sought. It was all his fault.

"Lyle," Jarod growled so menacingly, that Lyle turned green before finally turning paler than the paint on his walls.

Lyle managed to jump up out of his chair and scramble backwards before Jarod literally jumped over his desk and tackled the man to the ground.

"You sick bastard, you killed everyone I ever loved," Jarod hissed, all he wanted was to end the man's life right then, snap his neck like a twig. "Why?" he demanded hoarsely, "Why won't you people leave me the hell alone?"

Lyle looked up into the black, soulless eyes of the man he had shot and killed only four hours before. A man whose body had disappeared not twenty minutes later. He had thought that the Triumvirate had sent someone to retrieve the Pretender's body. He never dreamed that when Jarod had whispered with his last breath that it was not over, that he would somehow achieve the impossible and come back from the dead to kill him.

Holy shit, what the hell was going on?

"How did you come back?" Lyle almost whimpered, more terrified than he had ever been. He now realized that this was what all his victims had felt, all those Asian women he had tortured then murdered and cannibalized, this was the terror they must have felt before they died.

"Do you remember Angelo's last words? The Goddess came," was all Jarod whispered before wrapping his hands around Lyle's throat and squeezing ever so slowly.

"I don't just want you to die, Lyle, I want you to suffer as no other has suffered," Jarod ground out ominously as lights began to flash in Lyle's peripheral vision.

"Lyle, I can't get a hold of Sydney…" Miss Parker trailed off as she barged into his office, seeing Jarod on top of her twin and trying to choke the life from him. "What the hell is going on here?" she demanded, pulling her 9mm on Jarod.

Jarod turned and snarled at her for interrupting him, "Get out of here, Parker. This is between Lyle and me. I am finally going to finish what I started the night he killed Kyle."

"Jarod, I don't know what is going on, but I want you to get off Lyle and come with me," Miss Parker told him softly, a voice she seldom ever let anyone hear, especially not to him in front of Lyle.

"No," Jarod refused.

She cocked her gun and took up a defensive stance. "Get off of him, Jarod, NOW!" she told him in that tone that brooked for no argument. In a tone that normally would have had him jumping to his feet once, because he knew she meant business.

Only he wasn't the Jarod she had known all those years ago. Not anymore. He wasn't the Jarod she had chased for so long, danced around. He had died and come back something else entirely. What didn't matter at this moment, all he knew was that the voice in his head was telling him to snap Lyle's neck and be done with it.

"I can't Parker," he whispered before turning back to Lyle to finish him off.

"I'm warning you, Jarod. I will shoot you if you don't get off my brother," there was a pleading in her voice that Jarod had never heard before. It was unlike Parker to plead for anything.

"And I'm warning you, Parker. Turn around and forget everything you saw here tonight. Let me do what I have to, what I must," Jarod warned her.

"I can't," she whispered the moment before she pulled the trigger and shot him in the back.

Jarod roared in pain, he whirled on Parker and almost attacked her, but he saw the naked pain in her eyes, the shock of having actually shot him. All he could think was to get away from her and this place as quickly as he could. His blood was running down his skin for the second time that day. He snarled at her, but she had already dropped the gun and was staring at him in dumbfounded shock and looking somewhat relieved.

He looked around, almost in a panic before taking a dive out of the window. It was a four story drop from Lyle's office window. He barely managed to land on his feet. He glanced back up at the broken window to see Parker staring after him. She was crying.

He took off at a dead run and ran until he couldn't breathe anymore, couldn't see straight from the pain. Until exhaustion tackled him to the ground. He wasn't sure how far he had gone, but he did know that he had covered a lot of ground, even with the shot in his back. He lay there for several minutes trying not to let another kind of darkness claim him once again.

"An unconscious Dark-Hunter is a dead Dark-Hunter," a strangely accented voice said from behind him.

Jarod turned quickly, seeing a man with fuchsia hair and a stud in his chin and nose. He wore a pair of sunglasses in the middle of the night. The man was a giant hovering over Jarod like a bird of prey.

"Who are you?" Jarod croaked, feeling as if he were part of a horrible nightmare. Except he couldn't wake up from it.

"I am Acheron Parthenopaeus," he answered removing the sunglasses, showing Jarod a set of eerily glowing metallic eyes that danced and flowed like time itself, "I was sent by Artemis to train you for your new life."

Jarod wanted to ask more questions, but the pain was too much for him at the moment.

Acheron pulled Jarod to his feet and supported him as they walked over to a jet-black jaguar. "Come, Jarod, once you have recovered your strength, I will show you how to hide your fangs from the humans when you speak. I will show you how to hunt the Daimons and everything else you will need to know to survive as a Dark-Hunter."

All Jarod managed was a nod before he was settled into the leather seat of the jag and Acheron started the engine, then leaned over and touched Jarod's shoulder gently, immediately the wound in Jarod's back was gone. Healed.

"How did you-"

Acheron cut him off, "All in good time Jarod, for now, let's get as far from Blue Cove as we can."

Jarod nodded again relieved to know that for this moment in time, he wasn't running alone in the dark, away from some unknown evil. He wasn't alone anymore, and he had a feeling that if he were ever to come face to face with the Centre and any of its employees once again, they would find that _he_ was now the unknown evil.

********

When Jarod woke up hours later, it was to find himself in a new city completely. How long he had slept, he didn't know, nor did he care. He looked around and found Acheron staring down at him from the shadows.

"Where are we?" Jarod wondered.

"New Orleans," the giant of a man told him negligently.

Instinctively, Jarod knew that it was daylight and he was pent up inside this house. He cringed at the thought, hating to be trapped by anything.

"Why don't you start by telling me exactly what Daimons are and what exactly I am," Jarod raised one of his brows.

Acheron smiled in spite of himself. With Jarod's intelligence, his "pretending" abilities, he would definitely be an asset to the Dark-Hunters, and kick some Daimon-ass.

"How much Greek History do you know?" Acheron began; knowing it would be much easier to explain if Jarod had some handle on his Greek Myth 101.

Jarod shrugged, "What do you want to know?" thinking it odd how cyclical everything was. He had once left Sydney a clue as to what and where he was going, an origami figure of Onisius, the Greek God of Retribution.

"Aeons ago, Apollo created a superior race called the Apollites. They were faster, stronger and more powerful and thought they should rule over the humans because of it. They began a war and in the process killed Apollo's mistress and son. Furious, Apollo destroyed Atlantis, the Apollites' home and cursed them to drink each other's blood to survive and to never walk during the daylight hours so Apollo would never have to see them again. 

"Because Apollo's mistress was 27 when she died, all Apollites die a horrible death on their 27th birthday. The only way to survive their fate is by killing themselves the day before, or by draining the soul from a human. The stronger the soul, the longer they live. Once they begin draining souls, they are no longer simple Apollites, they become Daimons," Acheron explained.

"So Daimons are like vampires," Jarod asked slowly, not sure if he was buying into all this crap.

Acheron nodded, "Exactly, except they've existed much longer than the term vampire has."

"So, the Dark-Hunters are like vampire slayers?" Jarod wondered incredulously.

"Precisely, we are Darkness, we are Shadow. We hunt those that would prey upon the weak."

That appealed to Jarod, since it was essentially what he'd been doing since he escaped from the Centre in 1996, but all this supernatural crap, he wasn't so sure that he hadn't taken a tumble down a rabbit hole somewhere. Shit, he could be dead somewhere and this was his eternal punishment.

"What exactly is a Dark-Hunter," Jarod asked pointedly.

Sighing, Acheron smiled, "When Artemis found out what had happened she began creating Dark-Hunters, warriors who had the strength and powers to defeat the Daimons. She gave us animal senses, elongated fangs, and dilated eyes that can clearly see during the nighttime. Heightened sense of hearing and smell. In every way, we are just as strong and powerful as the Daimons are. We fight them, free the souls and then sleep during the daylight hours when Daimons cannot prey on the weak. We are Immortals, Jarod."

Jarod shivered at the word. He had thought living a lifetime of hell was being subjected to the Centre's every whim concerning him, but this was possibly a hundred times worse.

Acheron had gotten up and was staring off into the distance, looking preoccupied. Jarod had one more question to put to him, and seeing the wisdom of the ages in the younger-looking man's eyes, he knew he was the one to ask this question to.

"Is it worth it, Acheron?" he asked quietly.

For the longest time, Acheron stood silently, unmoving as if he had never heard Jarod's question. Then he looked straight at Jarod with his eerie eyes, "That is a question I cannot answer, Pretender, for every man is different, the price we each pay is different," he ended, a strange note in his voice.

After the longest time of silence, it occurred to him that he had sold his soul for an act of vengeance and hadn't even gotten the satisfaction of carrying it through.

*******

Hours later before the sunset, Jarod was introduced to his new life as a Dark-Hunter. He was given a new cell phone and a PDA; access to the Dark-Hunter website where he could link up with the many Dark-Hunters' worldwide and new set of clothing tailored to fit his body.

Ironically enough, his new clothing wasn't much different than what he was normally used to wearing, except it came with a few extra perks. His boots were equipped with inset blades that could be triggered and used to kill Daimons, and free the stolen souls. The long, black leather jacket also could hide his weapons, whatever he chose to use. He found he liked the custom-made leather pants and shirt he'd been given. They hugged his body and gave him a heady sense of pleasure in the richness of the material.

Along with his new clothing, he was offered a Squire, though he declined that offer. Ash also informed him that once his DH powers peaked, he would find out what his unique set of abilities would be.

For every Dark-Hunter it was different. Some had control over the weather, some had psychic abilities, and it all depended on where their strengths lie when they were mortal humans. But Jarod sensed that Ash was different. For one thing, he was the very first Dark-Hunter, for another, there was something truly frightening about the things that Ash seemed to know or be able to do. His youthful appearance was part of his gift and his curse.

Before they left after the sun set, Ash gave Jarod his choice of weapons. There were guns, swords, srads, and daggers, not to mentions several sets of intricately designed throwing stars. All were beautifully crafted and lethal in the extreme. Jarod caressed several things before his eyes found a Katana. He had always been fascinated by them and once he saw it, he knew he wanted the use it and master it.

Picking up the sword, he twirled it about his wrist. Ash merely watched him, an eyebrow raised.

"This should prove … interesting, Pretender. Tonight you and I will hunt some Daimons and kick their pretty-boy asses," Ash told him as he pulled on his black, leather coat that hung down to his ankles. He put on his Ray bans and walked to the door, not bothering to wait for Jarod to follow him.

Anticipation stole over Jarod as he caught up to the taller man, who looked as if he should have been on some college campus somewhere, or on some rock stage someplace screaming about his painful life instead of going out into the darkness to save the world. But all this hero shit appealed to Jarod. Why wouldn't it? He still had sins to atone for, mistakes to pay for, and this was as good a way as any, wasn't it?

Jarod glanced around, looking for the black Jag he had seen the other night, instead all he saw were two motorcycles parked on the street. They both climbed onto one and when Ash looked over in Jarod's direction and grinned in such a boyish way, Jarod couldn't help but grin back.

"I think you are going to enjoy this, Jarod, let's get the hell outta here and find us some Fabios to kill, shall we?" Ash asked him, kicked up his kickstand and took off down the street.

Jarod followed suit, wondering what exactly Ash had meant by "Fabios", but finding that he liked the freedom the bike afforded him as he roared down the street after Ash better than wondering about Ash's strange comments.. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't looking over his shoulder. He was no longer the prey in some twisted game of the Centre's choosing. He was now the hunter, a Dark-Hunter.

They drove into the French Quarter and parked the bikes in a darkened parking lot and began roaming the streets on foot. Ash wasn't very talkative, he just merely prowled the streets, waiting and watching for something Jarod couldn't even begin to guess at.

When Ash pulled out a PDA, Jarod was more than a little intrigued until Ash began to explain to him. "Because the Daimons have psychic powers, we can track their signatures with a special tracking system only Dark-Hunters use. This allows me to see if there are any Daimons in the nearby vicinity."

For a long time, Jarod and Ash simply walked around the French Quarter. It seemed to be a slow night and since there were no distractions, Jarod began to do what he did best. Indulge his curiosity.

"How long have you been doing this?" he began.

Ash glanced down at his watch, "About three hours now," he quipped sarcastically, making Jarod want to both laugh and roll his eyes.

"Don't be obtuse, you know what I meant," Jarod threw back.

He had to admire Jarod's guts. Very few people were allowed to talk to him like that. Smiling, Ash did what he did best, keep his own secrets.

"Since time immemorial, my friend."

Knowing he wouldn't get a more definitive answer than that, Jarod raised one of his eyebrows, "I'm assuming we're talking longer than several hundreds of years. So, isn't there any way for Dark-Hunters to finally find peace?"

Ash stopped and seemed to be considering Jarod's question before he finally turned to Jarod and stared at him fixedly with his strange, glowing eyes; even covered by the sunglasses, Jarod knew they were looking straight into his own soulless eyes.

"There is one way, but it requires you to put your soul in someone else's hands and trust them absolutely with your life. It requires you to drain your Dark-Hunter powers and die. Artemis jealously guards the souls of her Hunters and does not give them up easily." Ash paused here and an eerie hand print appeared across his neck and then disappeared before Jarod could really see it, "Whatever you do, Pretender, be certain the pure heart you entrust your soul to will not betray you, else you will find yourself in a hell beyond your imaginings. You will know thirst, but never be able to quench it. You will hunger, but never know food. You will be nothing more than a shade." Jarod had to suppress the shiver that threatened to run up his spine at Ash's tone.

A distant scream interrupted Jarod before he could question Ash further. With a sigh of relief, Acheron followed the sound of the screaming. They entered a darkened alley where Daimons always trapped their prey.

Six tall, blond males were circling one lone man. They were tall, all handsome and muscular, while their prey was forty-ish and balding, but he was brandishing his briefcase like a weapon, which made the Daimons around him merely laugh at him.

A sudden cold breeze disturbed the still, oppressive air around them. The Daimons all looked up and saw two shadowed figures standing at the entrance of the alleyway.

"Well, well, what have we here? Cheesy horror movie rejects, that's what," Ash tsked and sounded disappointed in his prey.

The Daimons looked at each other nervously, but they seemed to find confidence in their numbers. "Oh look," the leader of the Daimons began, "It's a Dark-Hunter. Ooh, I'm so-o scared," he sneered.

Four of the six broke formation and began stalking towards Jarod and Ash. Ash didn't seem in the least bit apprehensive that they were outnumbered six to two, but hell, even Jarod had been in worse situations than this one, that he had to admit reminded him of something out of Evil Dead.

The only reaction the Daimons' leader got was another tsk and a shake of Ash's outrageous hair. Before anyone could move or speak, Ash attacked the four Daimons. Jarod watched in awe for a moment before noticing that the other two Daimons were moving in for the kill on the innocent man they were supposed to be protecting.

He stalked over to the two who had finally managed to get the man's brief case from his grip and were now just beating him senseless. Jarod tapped the taller of the two on the shoulder, and quipped, "Guess who?"

The Daimons attacked him, not bothering to play fair. He kicked one of them in the stomach as he tried to rush Jarod. He pulled the Katana out of his jacket and stabbed the Daimon in the stomach. The Daimon staggered, but Jarod didn't have time to wonder why he didn't die because the other Daimon grabbed him by the shoulder and whirled him around and sucker punched him right in the nose.

Jarod was stunned a moment before he heard Ash's voice, "In the chest, Jarod, that's where the souls are trapped."

Recovering, Jarod wiped the blood running from his nose away, "That wasn't very nice, now was it?" he asked rhetorically before he attacked the one who had just punched him. He hit him, and then used the sword to stab him in the chest. The Daimon screamed as he disintegrated into dust right before Jarod's eyes.

Without pausing, Jarod then toed the release in his left boot, releasing the blade and kicking the other Daimon in the chest. He too died quickly, leaving Jarod feeling a rush of adrenaline. He grinned, thinking he could definitely have no problems with this existence. Until he saw the older guy cowering beside a pile of trash.

Before he could reach him, Ash was already by his side mumbling words to the man, who looked rather dazed. Jarod picked up the discarded briefcase and handed it to the man who just began walking away without even looking back.

Confused, Jarod pointed at the guy and opened his mouth to ask Ash what was wrong, but Ash was already walking in the opposite direction. Jarod had no trouble catching up to Acheron.

"What did you say to him?" he wondered.

Ash merely sighed heavily, "No one must know of our existence, Jarod. No human must ever know what we are or what we do night after night. I merely made certain he would not remember us or the Daimons."

There was so much Jarod didn't know and he hated that feeling. But Ash suddenly stopped and looked down at Jarod, "Don't worry, Jarod. I will teach you everything. Give it time and you'll be kicking serious pretty-boy ass all night long."

To that, Jarod merely chuckled. Having seen Daimons in person, all those snide comments Ash had made, well, they made more sense to him now. Each Daimon male had been perfectly beautiful, blond and extremely pretty-boyish. No wonder Ash had called them Fabios.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't sue.

My Immortal is another song by Evanescence. DH's are still owned by Sherrilyn Kenyon.

Synopsis: It's been two years since Parker shot Jarod. All she had left of him is the shell from the bullet she thinks killed him. Her only comfort? A bottle of whiskey.

My Immortal  
I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all my childish fears  
And if you have to leave   
I wish that you would just leave  
'Cause your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone   
These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase   
When you'd cry I'd wiped away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
And you still have all of me   
You used to captivate me by your resonating light  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me   
These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase  
When you'd cry I'd wiped away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
And you still have all of me   
I tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone  
But though you're still with me  
I've been alone all along   
When you'd cry I'd wiped away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
And you still have all of me

Chapter two

Two Years Later…

Idly, she fingered the shell lying on her desk. No middle of the night calls, no cryptic letters, no wild goose chases. No contact, sightings, or even a freaking blip on the radar. Where the hell was he?

Not even a body.

She picked up the bullet casing and wanted to cry. She could almost hear Sydney's voice in her head telling that she was drinking too much. She could also hear herself snubbing Sydney's fatherly advice time and again.

God, how she missed him.

How could Lyle have done it? Kill not only Sydney and Angelo, but their little brother as well? This time Parker couldn't help but allow the overwhelming pain to leak onto her cheeks. Ethan had been her last link to her mother. Now that she had better developed her inner sense, she could almost hear her mother's voice as Ethan had. Almost.

Why couldn't she let this go? It wasn't as if her brother hadn't broken down right after Jarod had leapt from his window, telling her what he'd been ordered to do. Why? Parker couldn't begin to guess and Lyle hadn't been privy to the information anyway. All he had known was the orders had come directly from the Triumvirate. This wasn't another of the Centre's dark secrets she obsessed over uncovering. Jarod was gone. Sydney and Ethan were gone as well.

So why in her dreams did she constantly see Jarod begging for her to come find him? If she hadn't sworn she was going insane, she could almost sense Jarod's presence. It was like he needed her, wanted her to be a part of his life again.

But that was ridiculous. Jarod was dead. She had shot him herself. The shell slipped from her fingertips. Rolling across the desk and falling to the floor with a soft ping. She picked up the bottle once again and took a long draught from it, ignoring the familiar burn along the back of her throat.

She got up, unsteady on her feet, wrapped her robe more tightly around her gaunt body and tilted her head back, finishing off the bottle of whiskey. Numbness spread throughout her body, making her rock from side to side. She barely made it to her bed before she collapsed and fell into a drunken stupor.

The clock by her bedside table read 8:30 am.

_New Orleans_

Parker sat up, drenched in sweat and trembling, her head pounding from the hangover she got daily. She closed her eyes against the reality of her life and wished for the peaceful oblivion she drank to find.

The bout of nausea passed, she sat up and wondered what had pulled her from the coma-like sleep that usually lasted all day. She looked over at her bedside clock and grimaced at it. It was only noon. She ran a hand through her tangled, unwashed hair and thought about the woman she had once been.

Angry and vengeful, she had cared only about finding the answers to her questions. It didn't matter who she hurt in the process, because all she wanted was peace from the past. She had worn corporate power suits, three inch high heels, and a gun to hide from the world that she was still just the lonely little girl who had been devastated by her mother's death.

Though she had never allowed anyone to be especially close to her for fear they would leave her alone and hurt again, she had loved Sydney because he was the only man who had worried for her, he had protected her and motherhenned her. She had always rebuffed the older man's concern, but it had meant more to her than she ever let on, always afraid that if she allowed herself to show her true feelings for him, he would turn away from her like her father had.

Ethan had been like being with her mother all over again. There was something about his childlikeness that she had been drawn against her will at times, but still nonetheless had she found his innocence endearing. He was perhaps the only other person besides Jarod she had ever let into her heart. He was the last person her mother had touched before she died. She knew her mother would have wanted her to love and protect him since she couldn't be there to do it herself.

Then there was Jarod. From the very beginning the Centre had put them together for their own twisted reasons. Perhaps she had loved Jarod from the very beginning, or when she had whispered her name into his ear. Perhaps it was when they had kissed. Her heart would always belong to him. Regret twisted her; she could have run away with him as he'd wanted her to do so many times. They would have been happy together. But instead she had let her need for revenge rob her of the happy life her mother had died trying to ensure for her.

Now it was too late to tell any of them that she had truly loved them.

It was too much for her to bear; she curled up in a little ball and let the exhaustion overtake her.

_New Orleans_

She sat up again, wondering at the voice. She winced as a vision overtook her, so blindingly real, it scared her.

_ Jarod was prowling the streets, waiting for something. He needed her, though he didn't know it, but all the same his heart cried out for her to save him from the darkness that was consuming him._

The phone rang suddenly, causing her to start violently and the vision to disappear. She grabbed the phone angrily and rasped into the handset, "This had better be some kind of emergency, or someone's going to die!"

"You've been reactivated, Miss Parker," a voice whispered ominously into her ear, causing chills to erupt down her spine.

"Impossible, Jarod is dead and I have retired from the Centre," she scoffed.

There was a long pause, then "Jarod isn't dead Miss Parker. He's alive and living in New Orleans."

Stunned, Miss Parker put a hand over her mouth and breathed slowly to get a hold of herself. She was only having some sort of hallucination brought on by too much alcohol. "If this is a joke, it's pretty sick, so whoever you are-"

"This is no joke, Miss Parker. You've been reactivated to bring Jarod in. You will be briefed as soon as you arrive at the Centre. That is all."

Miss Parker opened her mouth to tell whoever it was to kiss her ass, but the line was dead.

She pulled the handset away from her head and stared at it, wondering if she was having a very bad and very vivid bad dream. Too bad Sydney wasn't there to tell her whether she had finally lost it. He would have known for certain.

Damn, she bit her lip to stop herself from crying and got off the bed. As much as she wanted to delude herself into thinking this was a bad dream, she knew better. She would never be free of the Centre until they found viable proof that Jarod was no longer alive. They had only allowed her an "extended" holiday while they tried to find him again.

Sighing in surrender, she got up from her rumpled bed and went to take a shower. No doubt a car would be sent for her equipped with sweepers that would be there to convince her to come along quietly with them if she needed it. She had no intention of walking into the Centre under anything less than her own control, dignity intact. It was still the one thing the Centre hadn't stripped her of.

Two hours later…

She stepped from the black sedan, and looked up at the building that was the embodiment of what had controlled her her entire life. It was still as awe inspiring and chill inducing as ever.

The sweepers, Sam among them, escorted her into the shadowed building. She avoided that elevator where her mother had faked her death out of habit and was taken to her father's old office. Bitter tears rose in her eyes as she thought of her father, who in his own way, had loved her. Just not nearly enough to leave her anything other than a legacy of pain and unhappiness.

Mr. Raines sat behind the desk, and she had to willfully keep the distaste from showing on her face as she remembered this man was her true father.

"Good afternoon, Miss Parker," he wheezed.

She merely raised one perfectly arched brow, not bothering to answer him.

He cleared his throat, stood as soon as the door to her right opened and her brother, Lyle walked into the office. He was not the same man he'd been two years ago. He didn't smile at her charmingly or try to insult her in that noxiously sweet tone he'd always used with her that had never failed to raise her hackles and make her want to throttle the man. He merely stood there silently, his eyes shadowed and as creepy as Mr. Raines' eyes had always been to her.

She took a deep breath, her ice queen façade slipping back into place, "Well, what a quaint family reunion this is," she sneered at the two men.

Raines seemed to ignore her sarcasm, "Jarod is not dead, Parker. You have been reactivated to capture him and bring him back to the Centre unharmed."

Parker crossed her arms and stared straight into Raines' eyes, "How can I be certain that however it is that was spotted in New Orleans _is_ truly Jarod. After all, I shot him myself. Lyle shot him not four hours before that. No man, not even a genius pretender named Jarod, could survive those kinds of fatal wounds."

Lyle answered for his father, "We have no idea. All we know is that he was spotted and there can be no mistaking him for someone else." He turned to Raines' desk and picked up a blurred photo and handed it to Miss Parker, "It has been digitally enhanced, and as you can see, it has to be him."

Miss Parker looked over the photo. It was not a very good one, but there was no mistaking those eyes and that build. His hair was much longer now, but even the mole was still there. It _was_ Jarod.

Her breath came in gasps and all she could do was stare at the picture of the man who had haunted her dreams for most of her life. She felt dizzy and as if the floor had suddenly dropped out from beneath her feet. She had thought he was dead!

Lyle's arms were there suddenly, supporting her and helping her to the couch against the wall. She sat and threw him a look that was halfway between grateful and angry. The photo trembled in her hands.

"Damn that son of a bitch, he's been alive all this time?" she hissed, as blessed numbing anger coursed through her body. "If I find him, I'm going to shoot both of his kneecaps and drag his ass kicking and screaming back to the Centre," she swore viciously.

"Calm down, Parker," her brother soothed her, there was something so lifeless about her brother now, it was eerie how empty his eyes looked now, "Remember, the orders are to bring him back _unharmed_," he reminded her.

"To hell with that," she scoffed, "Last time we thought he was dead, and look at the son of a bitch now? He's just waltzing around New Orleans as if he hadn't a care in the world. If I go after him, I bring him back my way, or not at all," she insisted.

Raines merely smiled in satisfaction at Lyle. Miss Parker was back.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: This is a Fanfic, therefore most characters belong to their respective owners (not me). Sherrilyn Kenyon owns the DH's and all that goes along with that. The song "Papercut" is by Linkin Park ©2000. The Pretender characters belong to so many people, I'd rather not list it here…takes up more space that I could use for my story. So nyah :P

Synopsis: Two years ago Jarod was introduced to the world of Dark-Hunters. He's changed drastically from the ever innocent genius we've always loved. But is he something evil or something _wicked?_ (BTW, that lil catch phrase belongs to Sherrilyn too)

Papercut

Why does it feel like night today?  
Something in here's not right today  
Why am I so uptight today?  
Paranoia's all I got left  
I don't know what stressed me first  
Or how the pressure was fed but  
I know just what it feels like  
To have a voice in the back of my head  
It's like a face that I hold inside  
A face that awakes when I close my eyes  
A face watches every time I lie  
A face that laughs every time I fall  
[And watches everything]  
So I know that when it's time to sink or swim  
That the face inside is hearing me  
Right underneath my skin  
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back  
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head  
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within  
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin  
I know I've got a face in me  
Points out all the mistakes to me  
You've got a face on the inside too and  
Your paranoia's probably worse  
I don't know what set me off first but I know what I can't stand  
Everybody acts like the fact of the matter is   
I can't add up to what you can  
But everybody has a face that they hold inside  
A face that awakes when they close their eyes  
A face watches every time they lie  
A face that laughs every time they fall  
[And watches everything]  
So you know that when it's time to sink or swim  
That the face inside is watching you too  
Right inside your skin  
The sun goes down  
I feel the light betray me

*******

Jarod growled as a Daimon grabbed his arm, whirling him around, and ripping a hole in his brand new leather jacket. This was turning out to be a bad night for hunting. He quickly dusted the inkblot by grabbing a knife from inside of his now-ripped-brand-new-custom-made-just-for-him leather jacket, and stabbing the bastard in the chest.

Having their leader disintegrate before their eyes, the rest of the pack of Daimons fled quickly, making Jarod wish he'd brought his throwing stars with him. There were only three Daimons left however, so their little group was broken up for the night since Daimons oddly enough only hunted in packs of four or six.

Bending his head over, Jarod inspected the damage done and cursed mildly under his breath. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford to buy a new one. Thanks to Artemis and her unusual method of payment, Jarod was a _very_ rich man. He chuckled, remembering how last time, the Goddess had sent his "paycheck" right into his toilet. It'd been hell to clean all those jewels and gold pieces up, but after he'd calmed down he had howled with laughter. After aeons, you'd think the Gods would have heard about direct deposit.

Jarod headed back to his motorcycle. After two years as a Dark-Hunter, he'd begun to get bored with the monotonous routine he'd acquired. In the beginning there'd been a definite adrenaline rush every night as he went out to save the world. But now, it was the same old, same old. His mind needed a challenge. He was dissatisfied with sleeping during the daytime and hunting or prowling the night.

He couldn't imagine doing this for another year, let alone eleven thousand like ole T-Rex. Talon had shared that particular nickname with him and Jarod had truly begun to like it when he noticed how much is irritated the ever calm Ash. There was something to be said about causing a flush of irritation across the man's cheeks. It certainly made life a little more interesting, but even annoying Ash didn't hold that much appeal for Jarod anymore.

He sighed in frustration. It was pretty pathetic when being an immortal for only two years started to get on your nerves.

What Jarod needed was something to divert his attention from the lonely nights he spent on-line at the website with his Dark-Hunter brethren and sisters. How much he missed Parker and his late night calls that always infuriated her. Parker had always been a formidable opponent, but even that simple pleasure was denied him.

_No one must know of our existence, Jarod. No human must ever know what we are or what we do night after night._

Since Jarod was supposed to be dead, he couldn't call Parker up anymore and irritate her or even send her on another wild goose chase. If he did, she'd probably pass out, and as appealing a thought that was, he was bound by his Dark-Hunter oath.

He climbed onto his bike and started it up, dawn was approaching in a few hours, and unless he decided he wanted to end up extra crispy Jarod, he'd better call it a night and head home.

He took off at a roar, and only his heightened senses allowed him to see the tall leggy, brunette walking down the street. Was that…? No, Jarod decided, it couldn't be Parker. What were the chances she'd come to New Orleans now, after all this time? But never having been able to resist his insatiable curiosity, Jarod parked his bike a block from where he'd originally parked it for the night and started off down the street after his own Goddess of the Hunt, his own Parker. Hoping against hope, all the while knowing it couldn't be.

********

Parker was pissed and in a very foul mood. She'd been in New Orleans a whole damn week and nothing so far. Where the hell could Frankenstein be? She thought angrily. She'd personally checked out every news story about some hapless, pathetic victim needing an angel of justice, but nadda. As in nadda damn sighting of the Pretender.

Besides, if she had to spend anymore time with Lyle, she'd personally castrate him and send his balls back to "daddy" she thought with a sneer. If she had thought Lyle strange before, it was nothing compared to now. How was it possible the same people who'd created her had in the same womb, spawned him for god's sake? She'd watched him carve a "Y" shaped incision in his sirloin the other night. 

Any day now, she expected him to come back to the hotel with some sort of piercing or tattoo. He was morbid and sadistic in a way she couldn't understand. Shaking off her thoughts, Parker wracked her brain for some way to find Jarod. She was still angry that he'd been alive for the last two years and hadn't contacted her in some way. A freaking red notebook saying goodbye would have sufficed, damn it.

She wasn't really watching where she was going, until she ran straight into a very hard chest. Gasping, she looked up as strong arms engulfed her and her balance was restored.

"Good evening, Miss Parker. Nice night for a stroll," Jarod greeted her drolly.

The moment Parker recognized him, a small spark of happiness lit up her blue eyes, but then that spark turned to fury. She pushed away from his chest and pulled her gun in a typically Parker move.

"You son of a bitch, I've been combing the streets of this city searching for you, and I just happen to run into you? How long have you been following me?" she demanded.

Jarod laughed, never so glad to see anyone, as he was to see Parker, "What? No Jarod I'm so glad you're alive, I'm sorry I shot you in the back?" he quipped.

Parker paled, making Jarod notice just how thin and pale her face was already. Her entire body was thinner than he remembered. She had had a wonderfully curvaceous body from what he remembered, but this woman was almost skin and bones. Her cheekbones were more prominent than they should have been, there were smudges underneath her eyes, and the skirt she was wearing was decidedly baggy around her waist.

"If I had been thinking clearly, I would have shot you in the heart, you bastard," she snarled.

Jarod had to laugh at the familiar acidic tone. It was almost a relief to see that some things would never change. At least not as long as she was working for the Centre and wielding her 9mm with the wrath of an avenging Goddess. That reminded Jarod how much he would have liked to see Parker confront Artemis. He'd never met two bigger bitches in his life, and wouldn't he like to see who would get the best of the other?

"As always Parker, you give me this warm and fuzzy feeling where my heart _ should_ be. Have you ever considered volunteering for the suicide hotline? Don't, there'd be a rise in the suicide rate by a hundred percent."

That succeeded in shutting Parker up for the moment. Jarod had _never_ spoken to her that way. Jarod had always been kind and courteous, helping her uncover the secrets so vital to both their pasts. She looked up into the eyes of the man and noticed how dark they were, how empty. She suddenly realized this was _not_ the same Jarod she'd always known.

Jarod opened his mouth and laughed loudly at the astonished look on Parker's face, managing to keep his fangs hidden from her view. Wasn't this just what he'd wanted? A verbal spar with Parker, the only other human being who was capable of keeping up with him in that department. 

He was certain that before this night was over, he'd find that clichéd warning about being careful what you wish for, a dire warning for him. Last time he'd been with this woman, she'd shot him in the back. She was a hundred times as pissed off tonight, who knew what kinds of torture she had planned for him. Although he knew one for certain, being dragged back to the Centre, which was not an option. For one, he was a Dark-Hunter now and had a higher calling than being the Centre's favorite toy. And two, he'd put a wooden stake through his own black heart before he let the Centre get their hands on him and dissect him for scientific study. There was no way in Tartarus.

Uncertain of herself for the first time, and not knowing why, Parker lowered her gun and just seemed to be studying Jarod. Maybe for the first time in years did she really look at him.

"You're not the Jarod I remember," she whispered.

Snorting, Jarod raised an eyebrow mockingly, "Funny, you're not the Parker I remember either. The Parker I remember would have not hesitated in kicking my ass for being so cheeky with her. Or at least giving me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve," Jarod leaned closer to her, a hint of a smile on his lips, "And trust me baby, I really deserve a tongue lashing," he murmured suggestively.

Blue eyes widened in shock. Oh god, this was _definitely_ not the Jarod she'd known most of her life. She wasn't sure whether she should slap him, shoot him or… flirt with him. More confused than ever, Parker took a step back in panic. This was not supposed to happen. Jarod was not supposed to talk to her like this. She wasn't supposed to be actually considering his suggestive offer. And she sure as hell wasn't supposed to be gawking at the man she was trying to capture, like an idiot!

He was her prey, he should be intimidated by her. She was the bitch, the ice queen damn it! He wasn't supposed to be leering at her and staring at her with the most intense expression she'd ever seen on the man.

"Knock it off," she demanded feebly, "I'm taking you back to the Centre with me."

Jarod crossed his arms, another annoying mocking smile curving his lips, "Really? You and what mob of sweepers, Parker?"

Gritting her teeth, Parker raised her gun again, "I don't need a mob of sweepers, Jarod. Just this, and we both know that I will not hesitate to use it, if need be."

"Haven't you hesitated already? If you're taking me back, why haven't you done it already?" Jarod clucked his tongue and shook his head, dark hair flying about his face, "You're losing your grip, Parker, how shocking."

Flushing with anger, Parker wanted to give in to a ridiculously childish urge to stamp her foot and pitch a fit. This was _not_ going as she'd planned it. But before she could open her mouth, she heard a voice calling her from down the street.

"Parker, I was worried…" Lyle trailed off, almost just as she had one night two years ago.

Jarod and Lyle stared at one another before Lyle pulled a gun on him, his face blanched of all color, his hand trembling noticeably.

Quirking his mouth in an odd little grin, Jarod shifted his weight to rest on his right side and stared straight into Lyle's haunted eyes, "My, I'm suddenly overcome with a sense of deja-vu. Doesn't this seem familiar, Lyle?"

"Get away from him, Parker," Lyle whispered urgently.

"Not a chance," Parker hissed, "I was ordered to bring him back, and I refuse to let you get credit for this one, Lyle."

Snorting in exasperation, Jarod rolled his eyes, "Children, please. No one is getting credit for my capture because I refuse to be captured. Now if you'll please excuse me–" Jarod turned to go, but both guns were suddenly trained on him and almost in unison, the Parker twins switched their safeties off.

"I don't think so, Jarod," Miss Parker told him.

Sighing in utter frustration, Jarod put both hands up and turned slowly, "Boy, you two are certainly denser than I remember. I told you…" Jarod moved with lightening speed, he knocked the gun from Parker's hand, causing her to stumble backwards. Then, before Lyle could even blink, Jarod had flipped through the air and managed to kick the gun from his hand as well, "…I am not going back to the Centre!"

Recovering, Miss Parker reached for her gun again, but Jarod was there once more to knock it form her grasp. He picked her up and hauled her over his shoulder, throwing a warning glare at Lyle before taking off into the darkness.

The last thing Lyle heard coming from Miss Parker's mouth was her shrill scream, "PUT ME DOWN YOU NEADERTHALIC IMBECILE!"


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: I think someone was wondering why I've been starting every chapter with a song. Well, I guess it's because it's in honor of Sherrilyn Kenyon. Whenever she writes a new DH book, she listens to a lot of different music. Most of it is on her website, listed so that each book has its own soundtrack. In fact, each character in her series has their own set of songs. Nazareth's Hair of the Dog seems to be a favorite of many of the characters; it's even mentioned in the first book, Night's Pleasures. Well, I've taken the liberty of making my own soundtrack for this fic. I thought I'd share it with everyone to set the mood for each chapter. I hope you guys can bear with me and maybe even appreciate some of the music I've picked out to go with this story. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Same as before. Don't own it, not making any money (if I was I'd be updating much quicker than this), don't sue. Can't get blood from a turnip ;-P This song is by Bush ©1999.

Synopsis: This is the first time MP and J have had to face one another. They've both changed, having had to cope with the past. On top of that, J has just kidnapped MP. How will MP handle J finally taking control?

The Chemicals between Us  
I want you to remember  
A love so full it could send us all ways  
I want you to surrender  
All my feelings rose today  
And I want you to remain  
The power of children can amaze  
I'll try not to complain  
I know that's a pisser baby

The chemicals between us  
The walls that lie between us  
Lying in this bed the chemicals displaced  
There is no lonelier state  
Than lying in this bed

I want you to remember everything you said  
Every driven word  
Like a hammer hell to my head

The chemicals between us  
The walls that lie between us  
Lying in this bed the chemicals displaced  
There is no lonelier face  
Than lying in this bed  
The chemicals between us  
The chemicals between us  
Lying in this bed

We're of the hollow men  
We are the naked ones  
We never meant you harm  
Never meant you wrong  
I'd like to thank  
All of my lovers lovers lovers

The chemicals between us  
The army of achievers  
Lying in this bed  
The chemicals displaced  
There is no lonelier state  
Than lying in this bed  
The chemicals between us  
The chemicals between us  
The chemicals. . . 

*******

Cell phones from that moment on were frantically pulled from pockets, speed dials were punched and irritated mutterings ensued as the phones rang several times before someone answered.

"What?" A wheezy voice rasped over Lyle's phone.

"Something has happened. Jarod kidnapped Miss Parker," Lyle informed his father.

There was silence for several moments-- well as silent as wheezing can be-- before Raines finally answered, "I see. Neither of you could handle this assignment. I will have to send someone else out there to bring Jarod in."

"I can handle it," Lyle insisted.

"Obviously you can't, Lyle. I don't want any more screw ups. I want Jarod."

When Lyle answered, his words were clipped and cold, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Expect her day after tomorrow." Then Raines hung up.

Furious, Lyle balled up his fist and hit the brick wall next to him. Barely feeling the pain, he stalked off into the night.

********

"Hey Nick. Yeah it's me. Look, I did something, well, something I know T-Rex isn't going to like."

"Put me down, Jarod," Miss Parker screeched, which was funny since Parkers never screeched.

"Hold on a sec, J, is that a woman I hear screaming in the background?" Before Jarod could answer, Nick laughed, "Let me guess, you kidnapped her, right?"

As tempting as it was to beat the shit out of Nick to teach him some respect, Jarod knew it just didn't pay in the long run, not when Nick was so good at getting Jarod anything he needed, so Jarod remained silent, his teeth grinding in frustration. Besides, most of his concentration was focused on the infuriated woman slung over his shoulder.

"Hello?" Nick paused, "Wait a second. Tell me you didn't, Jarod?" Laughter followed that last question, gales of hysterical laughter.

"Shut the hell up and give me directions to Talon's place out on the Bayou, you backwoods Cajun hick," Jarod snarled irritably.

"Put me down, Jarod or I swear to god I'll shoot both your kneecaps!" Parker shouted; her struggling was obviously getting her nowhere since Jarod had always been stronger than she was. Without her gun and her sarcasm, she'd lost the upper hand she'd always held over the man who was currently carrying her off in typical caveman fashion.

"Oh man, wait 'til I tell Kyrian this one. He's gonna laugh his ass off–"

Jarod cut him off, his voice deadly serious, "You're not to tell anyone about this, Nick, do you understand? This involves me and the life I had before I became _this_," he snarled the word out hatefully, "I have things to taker care of, once and for all."

Nick was good at pissing off Dark-Hunters, a skill he'd excelled at since his days as Kyrian's squire. Before Kyrian had met Amanda Devereaux and regained his soul. A skill he'd honed on Talon until he too had met Sunshine, and also regained his soul.

"What do I get in return for keeping your little secret, Jarod?"

Jarod never hesitated, "You get to live another day."

Parker shivered at the seriousness of Jarod's tone. Again she realized that Jarod had changed. A lot. But could he just be pretending? She didn't know, and that was what scared her about this new Jarod. He was unpredictable, and definitely had an aura of danger about him.

"Man, I'm scared," Nick taunted Jarod, but then gave him the directions to Talon's old place on the Bayou.

"Hey, be careful J. Talon's gators still guard his cabin from intruders." Nick's voice sounded just a bit nervous, because, as almost everyone knew, the only thing Nick Gautier was afraid of was alligators. 

Jarod chuckled, relaxing somewhat even though Parker still squirmed in his arms, "That definitely won't be a problem, Nick." Jarod hung up his phone and wondered how the hell he was ever going to get Parker on his bike and out to the bayou without her either getting them into an accident, or killing him.

Well, he was a genius, wasn't he? He grinned wickedly as an idea came to him. She was certainly going to kill him, but that wasn't anything new, was it?

*********

"Parker failed?"

"No. She has done what was expected of her. She has always been a distraction to Jarod. He will now be concentrating on her and exacting his revenge against Lyle."

"I see. You planned this, then?"

"Of course."

"Excellent. After I have Jarod in my custody, what shall I do with the Parker twins?"

"Kill them."

*********

Getting to Talon's cabin was much tougher than Jarod would have imagined. It would have been much easier to find a car (Jarod had indulged in buying several "toys" for himself the last two years), but it wouldn't have nearly been as interesting.

Parker was as furious as he expected her to be. She struggled against him every chance she got. When Jarod tied her up, hiked up her short skirt—which earned him a glare promising him he would regret that later—and climbed on behind her, she tried to push him off the bike. He had to laugh at her antics, which only earned him another dirty glare, because she wouldn't have been Parker if she didn't try to cause him some sort of pain in one way or another.

They rode for quite sometime, until they came to a rundown shack that looked as if a good, strong wind might knock it over at any time. Parker eyed the building (if you could even call what she was currently staring at a building) with a certain amount of trepidation. She had heard Jarod ask for direction to a cabin out on the bayou. Being alone with Jarod, in the woods, it was the scariest thought Parker could come up with.

Almost three years ago, she had been alone with him on the Island of Carthis. They had come so close to finding the answers they sought, but as usual, the Centre had found them and made her realize that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be free from them.

Last week had been another confirmation of that realization. They would never let her go.

"I am not staying here," she told Jarod. She didn't care if she had to dislocate every joint on her body.

Jarod chuckled, "No, we're not."

He grabbed Parker about the waist, kicked down the kickstand and stood her on her feet. Somehow, along the way, she'd lost one of her shoes. Jarod suppressed his grin. He went over to the mailbox that Parker had failed to notice before, but once she saw it, how could she not take note of the two large, metal spikes rammed through the mailbox. One horizontally and one diagonally.

Opening the box, Jarod pulled out a small remote control and pushed one of the buttons, causing the door on the front of the shack to begin opening. Parker felt as if she were Dorothy in the land of Oz. All she needed to make her nightmare come true were singing, and dancing midgets and a fairy to tell her that there was, "No place like home."

Jarod pulled her forward; Parker gaped at what she saw _in_ the old, dilapidated shack. There were motorcycles, a black viper, and two very nice catamarans.

"Hurry up, Parker, we've still got a long way to go," Jarod urged.

"Just where the hell are you taking me, Jarod?" she demanded, feeling more and more like a lost child.

"Someplace safe, for now," he answered cryptically. He used the remote to close the door and ushered Parker into one of the catamarans. He started it up and expertly steered it out into the swamp.

"How do you know how to drive this thing?" Parker wondered.

Jarod seemed to have no trouble seeing where he was headed, "A friend showed me how. He used to live out here, but now that he's married, he's made it available to me to use if I needed to."

Feeling the need to hear his voice, since the darkness seemed to press in around her, she tried again, "What have you been doing for the last two years? Why haven't you contacted me?"

Jarod didn't answer right away, "Don't look now, sounds like Parker actually cares."

How typical! Parker thought vehemently. She snorted though, "Sorry Jarod, don't mistake my obsession with capturing you for concern. I don't care what happens to you, so long as I can take you back where you belong, back to the Centre," she answered caustically.

If Parker had been able to see in the dark, she would have seen a flash of pain in Jarod's black eyes and his jaw tightening in anger. For a moment, Jarod was tempted to throttle Parker for being such a callous bitch, but then he remembered that that was what Parker was.

*******

It seemed like an eternity until they reached a cabin deep in the bayou. Spanish moss grew down the front porch, and Parker watched as Jarod steered the catamaran towards a small dock and secured it. He helped her out of the boat and all Parker could do was stare at the faded, silvery wood that made up the structure. Someone had actually lived here?

Jarod led her up to the porch and Parker did something she'd never done before. She screamed. 

She grabbed a hold of Jarod's arm, her nails biting into his muscled flesh even through his thick leather jacket, with her other hand she pointed at the two alligators that stood there on the porch hissing at the intruders.

One of Jarod's hands clasped her clammy fingers, soothing her into silence, "Quiet Parker," an unfamiliar voice rumbled out of Jarod's throat, "Beth looks kinda hungry."

In shock, Parker looked over at the man she'd known most of her life and saw a complete stranger. He had blond, wavy hair, with two long, thin braids that hung down to his chest. He was still sinfully handsome, Parker noted along with the fact that she was staring at a completely different person who stood where Jarod had been moments before.

"Who the hell are you?" she whispered, overcome by all the shocks she'd suffered during the night.

The blond man gave her an arrogant grin before stepping away from her and kneeling by the alligators. Parker wanted to warn him not to get too close, but she couldn't get any air into her lungs.

"Hey Beth, how's it going tonight?" the gator swished its tail and hissed again, as if answering Jarod's question. Parker went from terrified horror to incredulity in one breath. What the hell, had she stepped into the twilight zone? "I know," Jarod answered, "I've missed you, too, Beth."

Jarod stepped around the pair, and motioned for Parker to follow him. She snorted, "Are you crazy? What the hell kind of drug did you slip me? I swear to god a minute ago you looked like Jarod. I must have finally lost it, I'm finally certifiably crazy," she muttered to herself.

Jarod laughed, and suddenly it was Jarod again. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, never realizing how relieved she would be to see him again, especially since she was scared out of her mind, but she'd be damned if she'd admit it.

"It's ok, Parker. Trust me."

She hesitated. Those were words she'd never been able to take advantage of coming from anyone, not even Jarod. But since she felt like she was Alice who had just stepped into the rabbit hole, well, what the hell? This had to be a dream. She walked across the porch and was somewhat relieved that the alligators only hissed at her again before walking off the porch and sliding into the swamp.

"God, I need a cigarette," Parker murmured as Jarod pulled her inside of the cabin. The place was definitely not what she had expected. The walls were painted completely black; there was a kitchenette off to her left and a door to her right. Computer equipment filled several tables and there was a black futon near the rear of the room.

She couldn't help the look of distaste that crossed her face, "Nice décor, Jarod. Do it yourself?" she asked, her sarcasm slipping easily back into place now that she wasn't in immediate danger without the comforting press of her gun by her side.

Jarod didn't even bother to answer her. He closed and locked the door behind them and just stood there. Parker walked around the one room, seeing that there was a fine film of dust on everything. She came to the futon and sat down, wondering why she felt so out of place, so out of control. She was a Parker. She was supposed to be in control at all times.

"If you don't mind, I've had a long night and it's almost dawn." Jarod started abruptly, he stared straight at Parker, waiting for her to move from the futon.

She looked around, seeing there was no other furniture, and some perverseness of nature made her want to screw with him for whatever reason, "Alright, goodnight, Jarod," she murmured as she stretched out on the futon and kicked off her last shoe. She couldn't help the moan that escaped from her lips as she freed her foot; she stretched languidly, easing the tensions in her muscles.

Jarod growled, not certain if he wanted to strangle the woman lying on the only bed in the room, or kiss her senseless. It didn't take him very long to decide. He prowled over to the futon and leaned over her, then captured her lips. She stiffened beneath him as he stretched his body over hers.

Her hands came up to his chest to push him away, instead they grabbed his shoulders, holding him closers as her lips softened and she began kissing him back. He knew he shouldn't be kissing her, knew that he should be concentrating on getting the Centre as far away from him and his Dark-Hunter brethren as possible, but how could he? Not when Parker was this near, this accessible. Not when her defenses were down, when for the first time he could sense that she wasn't putting that wall up between them.

"Parker," he murmured, wondering what was different. He deepened the kiss, tasting the sweetness he always knew she would possess, his hands roamed her body, feeling her pulse quicken, her blood rush through her veins.

Her hands traveled up to his back, his neck, and finally tangled in his long hair. Her mind reeled, but she turned off the part of her mind that was still daddy's little girl, that screamed she should turn Jarod's sudden weakness to her advantage. She didn't want to hear it at the moment because she was too busy feeling the desire burn out of control for her childhood playmate.

Jarod needed to feel her. All of her. His fingers clumsily worked the buttons out of the button holes on her silk blouse, baring a beautiful body, a body that would rival any goddess'. He gazed down at her, his black eyes searing her skin, the intensity in them almost scary.

She hesitated, barely managing to push Jarod away, "Wait," she whispered.

Jarod could barely hide his disappointment, hide the fact that after all this time, after the magical kiss they'd just shared, she would still push him away. He began to move away from her, but she surprised him. The fingers that had moments ago been pushing at him, tugged at him and kept him from moving any further from her.

"Where are you going?" she demanded, her voice hoarse and breathy.

"I-I was … You …" he stammered, and then blushed like an adolescent whose voice was changing and had a pair of damp palms whenever he approached a girl he liked. It actually endeared him all the more to Parker. Jarod had never played games with her, not even when he'd sent Thomas to her. His motivation had been purely unselfish; his only wish to make her happy.

But then it was Parker's turn to be shy, she managed a slightly coy, slightly reticent smile. Perhaps Jarod remembered that he was now the hunter and the woman underneath him the hunted, because when he looked down at her, he was anything but the shy, inexperienced youth. There was no more awkwardness to him.

"I want you, Parker," he whispered in her ear, his voice soft and hot against her skin, sending chills down her spine as she imagined what it would be like to be the kind of woman she knew Jarod needed.

What was she thinking? This was all wrong, and Parker knew it, she tried to turn away from him, away from those dark, searching eyes. She was everything that Jarod didn't need. "I can't," she whimpered.

A hand brushed her jaw line, raised her face to look back at him, "Look at me," he commanded her softly, causing her eyes to rise to meet his almost without her willing them. "Don't you know you are all I've ever wanted, Parker? From the very first time I saw you, I knew that I would never care for any other woman the way I care about you. Don't turn away from me now. Let me in, Parker," his voice was soft, raw and filled with a passion she'd never heard from him before, his eyes beseeching her and she just couldn't resist him.

Not this time. Not again.

She nodded. She was helpless against those puppy dog eyes. She'd always been, but he would never know that. She couldn't help but add as his head dipped lower to claim her lips again, "Don't make me regret this, Franken-boy."


	5. Chapter Five

A/n: I just want to thank everyone for their wonderful reviews and support. This chapter is dedicated to all the Loons and their convincing me to come over to the dark side ;-). I especially wanted to say thank you to Maestra and LadyNiko for pestering me to get my chapters posted sooner. I am doing the best I can; though I know you ladies couldn't wait for me to update. I also wanted to give it up in a major way for Sherrilyn Kenyon. She is a wonderful writer; her books are fun, imaginative and give me hours of escape from reality, which is always a wonderful thing. It isn't hard to write fanfic based on characters you love and give you so much to work with. So, I'd like to thank Sherri and Steven Long Mitchell/Craig W. Van Sickle for their creativity. Wouldn't be writing this w/o them.

Also, I had to tone this chapter down a lot for ff.net. So there is another version of this chapter that I plan to post in its entirety someplace that accepts NC-17, which is what, I am told my chapter has rated LOL. Plus, I took out so much, that some places later in the chapter refer to stuff that happened during the scene I cut out. For instance, I have renamed Miss Parker for my fic, Ayngil, which Jarod calls her by her first name in the scene I took out. Be forewarned, but enjoy!

Disclaimer: The Pretender characters are owned by their respective owners, respectively. The DH characters are owned by Sherrilyn Kenyon, respectively. I own nothing, respectively. (So please don't sue wittle ole me, respectfully LOL)

This chapter's song is called "Let's Make Love" by Faith Hill with Tim McGraw ©1999

Synopsis: Jarod and Miss Parker have finally been forced together, alone. I thought the following song extremely apropos. This ones rated R folks.

Let's Make Love

Baby I've been drifting away  
Dreaming all day  
Of holding you  
Touching you  
The only thing I want to do  
Is be with you  
As close to you  
As I can be

Let's make love  
All night long  
Until all our strength is gone  
Hold on tight  
Just let go  
I want to feel you in my soul  
Until the sun comes up  
Let's make love  
Oh, baby

Do you know what you do to me  
Everything inside of me  
Is wanting you  
And needing you  
I'm so in love with you  
Look in my eyes  
Let's get lost tonight  
In each other

Let's make love  
All night long  
until all our strength is gone  
Hold on tight  
Just let go  
I want to feel you in my soul  
until the sun comes up  
let's make love

Let's make love  
All night long  
until all our strength is gone  
Hold on tight  
Just let go  
I want to feel you in my soul  
until the sun comes up  
Oh, until the sun comes up  
let's make love

Oh baby, let's make love  
All night long  
All night long  
Let's make love

*******

Jarod chuckled, his body vibrating against Parker's in such a pleasant way, that she shivered. This was right. Everything about this moment in time, Jarod, her, even the damned dusty futon; it was perfect.

Afraid that she would awaken in a bed somewhere alone, Parker began to pull the black shirt from Jarod's pants. For the first time, she noticed that almost everything he was wearing was leather. His pants were so soft and rich against her bare legs, the jacket he still wore, it was stiff, hard, but no less smooth against the tips of her fingers. It delighted her, the smell of him, how it overwhelmed her in this moment.

Leather and Jarod. 

She grinned, as she slipped his jacket from his shoulders and he helped her shrug it off his arms. He sat up, straddling her waist now, and stripped the shirt from his upper body. Parker's mouth watered. She'd seen his bared torso before, but Ye Gods, he was certainly much more hardened than ever before. Secretly, Parker had always loved Jarod's body, he'd always been in wonderful shape, but every toned ripple, every hard ridge was more so than she ever remembered.

Lazily, she eyed his pectorals, his biceps, then his abs. She started, noting the strange tattoo he'd gotten there from the last time she'd seen him. It was of a double bow and arrow, strangely familiar, but Parker dismissed it. There were other, more pressing things to concern herself with.

She glanced at his face. He was grinning wickedly. But no matter how naughty and devilish he looked, there was still that small bit of innocence he would always possess, the wonderment as he gazed at her, awed that they were finally together after all they'd been through. She saw all of it in his black eyes. She knew it, with all of her being that it was what he was feeling, as if her inner sense allowed her to feel it as Jarod felt it.

Slowly, Jarod leaned down again, his hands caressing the flimsy bit of lace and spandex that made up her black bra. He frowned a moment as he caught sight of her too flat stomach, and concern for her flitted across his expression. It was gone a moment later as his lips brushed against her neck, he nuzzled the warm skin there, his tongue swirled it, licking and tasting the sweetly salted flesh that throbbed with her pulse. His teeth grazed her skin, causing her to break out in goose bumps. He nipped her again and Parker sighed in utter bliss.

For this moment, she forgot who she was, what she was and who the man on top of her was, what he was. They were merely man and woman, doing what men and women have done since time immemorial. Make love.

------------------------------interrupted transmission-------------------------------

It was awhile before either of them dared to move. Finally, Jarod kissed her forehead. She wrapped her arms around him as he settled himself lying on his side next to her and half on top of her. His leather jacket served as a blanket as they both drifted off to sleep.

*******

No one had ever known what the Triumvirate was. Everyone always assumed they were in Africa, but that was merely a clever ruse. They were three of the oldest survivors. Only because they were careful of the Dark-Hunters, especially Acheron Parthenopaeus, who had been hunting them for aeons. 

The time had come for them to finally take their place among the Parthenon. They had bided their time until Jarod was ready, but now, they would reap the fruits of their labor.

She smiled, allowing the mortals who served her to see her fangs. They all shivered in fear of her. She took delight in their terror, since they all knew that one of them was to be her meal. Mr. Parker's brats had gotten in her way one too many times, and now she would kill them.

Once she had Jarod, there would be no turning back. Nothing would stop them. Nothing, not even the Atlantean.

*******

When Parker opened her eyes, she knew that the sun had risen. She sat up quickly, realizing that she was still very nude and as memories of the night before came crashing back; she remembered that she now only had her silk shirt and underwear to cover herself with. Feeling a bit out of sorts as heat stole up her cheeks; she saw a dark shadow standing off in one of the corners of the one room cabin and knew it was Jarod watching her.

"Good morning," Jarod murmured, his voice rough and deep in the stillness. It made her think something was wrong, that what had happened last night had been a horrible mistake. Her heart sank.

Without answering him, she stood up and began gathering her clothing—well at least the items she could still wear—and began walking over to the door she noted on her way in the night before. Even some backwoods Cajun hick would need to have a bathroom, and since it seemed to be the most obvious choice, she marched over to it without a backward glance, afraid that if she did, her heart would break into a million pieces and she would never get them back. 

As Jarod had so eloquently put it after Tommy's death, her heart was missing pieces of it. She still had the stained glass he'd made for her. If she looked back and saw regret or disgust on Jarod's face now, she would never recover from it.

"Parker?" Jarod's muffled voice sounded from the other side of the wooden door, "Are you alright?"

Without thinking, Parker pulled on her clothing, her long legs completely bared. Looking up, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and saw only herself. There was no one in that mirror but the true Ayngil Parker that kept herself hidden behind dark make-up and snarled comments. There was no mask to hide behind, nothing. Her face crumpled, tears poured down her cheeks.

Jarod was the only person left in this world who could destroy her. She looked stunned and bewildered as she thought about why he'd been standing in a darkened corner, instead of kissing her awake as she'd always imagined Jarod would do. It left her feeling vulnerable and scared that he regretted everything they'd done and shared.

She just couldn't bare that.

"C'mon Parker, open the door," Jarod's voice urged her once more, this time more insistent.

She grimaced, knowing she would have to get a grip on her emotions before she faced that man out there. As much as she cared for him, she just couldn't be that open with him. Not yet. Not until she knew for certain she could trust him.

******

Jarod paced in front of the door to the bathroom, feeling trapped and wishing he could leave and be free. He'd take Parker down to the Quarter and show her all the sights, the joys. She would love the coffee and beignets, the music; he could see her hips swaying to the beat, her body graceful and rhythmic.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Jarod began pounding on the door, hoping Parker would come out. He'd known something was up the moment she seen him standing in the corner. Damn, he knew exactly what path her mind had taken, but he refused to explain to her why he was standing alone in that corner through the door.

He was a Dark-Hunter, and the Gods knew how many rules he'd broken last night by showing himself to Parker, kidnapping her and then sleeping with her. He'd done it, he didn't regret it, but he sure as Tartarus was going to pay for it. T-Rex would know somehow, thanks to his own freaky powers, and Jarod would be called on the carpet like a wayward child. Again.

"Parker, we need to talk," Jarod tried again, trying to keep his temper in check. Ever since he'd become a Dark-Hunter, he could no longer keep a level head. He was as hot-blooded and rash as the rest of the Hunters, but he had found he rather enjoyed giving free reign to his emotions.

To his surprise, the door opened and Parker stepped out, her silk shirt rumpled and her lavender underwear peeping out beneath. She barely glanced over at him as she swept passed him, "There's nothing to talk about," she told him.

Irritated, Jarod glanced heavenward and expelled a sigh, "I know what you're thinking, Parker—" he began, hoping to explain himself to her, but she whirled on him so fast, her blue eyes blazing, and Jarod was surprised enough that all he did was step back.

"Don't even think you can _pretend_ to know what I think or feel or want, Jarod, because you don't know me half as well as you think you do," she snarled at him.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Jarod stalked forward, he wasn't wearing a shirt, only his leather pants, his hair hung down around his face and neck, disheveled from her running her fingers through it last night, his black eyes burned angrily. Parker could only back away from him as he advanced on her, grabbed her upper arms roughly and shoved her backwards until her calves hit the futon and she stumbled and fell backwards, landing on the couch.

"Let's get one thing straight, Parker. I know you. If you'll remember, I am a Pretender; I can be anything I want to be. I didn't ask for it, but I got it anyway. It's why I've never had a moment's peace in my entire life. It's why my life has never been my own, nor will it ever be again," he leaned over her, his knee resting on the mattress between her legs and his arms resting against the back of the futon, imprisoning her.

"I can't help but know you," he snarled at her quietly, "You won't get out of my head, Parker. From the moment I saw you, I knew you. You were my playmate, then when you went away, I dreamed of you every night. After I escaped, you hunted me. You, my beautiful Parker, haunt me," he whispered the moment before his head dipped again, to sample her lips.

She was shocked. But it was what she'd been dying to know, and why she'd retreated into herself again. Her arms wrapped around Jarod's neck and she clung to him, feeling more vulnerable than ever. It was such a relief to let Jarod control this moment. She rather liked this new, darker side to him. He knew what he wanted, and he went after it consequences damned. She sighed and allowed Jarod's mouth to carry her away.

The moment his lips had touched hers, devoid of any make-up, he'd been lost. She looked so much younger now, more like the girl he'd always known. He saw the emotions flit across her face, whereas her heavy make-up had always made him think she used it to mask herself from the world. He groaned and buried his hands in her hair, knowing it would be hours before he could leave the cabin. What better way to amuse themselves?

Jarod's cell phone rang.

Cursing under his breath, Jarod pulled away from Parker and dug it out of his jacket which was lying haphazardly on the floor next to Parker's torn skirt.

"What?" he demanded into the phone, irritated by the interruption,

There was an all too familiar tsk, "I swear, you and Kyrian are the only guys I know that can spend an entire night with a woman and still act like an asshole the next morning, good morning sunshine," Nick laughed.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Jarod growled, "This better be good gator bait."

"Oh it is," Nick assured him.

Jarod waited a few moments before snapping, "What, suddenly you've taken a vow of silence?"

"No, I just wanted you to sweat it out for a bit," Nick was grinning madly, enjoying this, Jarod knew.

"I just got this from Dark-Hunter.com that Ash is on his way down here, he knows about your girlfriend and whatever else is going on. He's pissed. He hasn't been this upset since his brother tried to kill him last Mardi Gras."

Grinding his teeth, Jarod swore loudly, "Great, that's all I need is him and Lyle in the same town to screw with me. Why do the Fates do this to me?" he muttered, trying to come up with a plan to not only get Ash off his back, but have his revenge against Lyle too.

Suddenly, he remembered Parker was sitting there, listening to his conversation. Damn, he had to get her away from him quick, or the Gods knew she would demand to be a part of whatever it was he was doing. He still wasn't certain where her loyalties would lie if he went after her brother again. Parker wasn't stupid, so he knew exposing her to the Dark-Hunter world and trying to lie to her about it would be a big mistake. He would have to leave her somewhere safe for now.

Then he realized what he was thinking. For now implied he would be coming back for her, and he couldn't. His Dark-Hunter oath forbade him to be with her again. Hell, he was breaking his oath being with her at all, but he would gladly accept whatever punishment Artemis dealt out to him for his slip, else he would be kicking himself for all eternity.

"All right, as soon as I can, I'll head back into town," Jarod paused, hating himself for what he needed to do, "And Nick, call Kyrian." Jarod lowered his voice, "Tell him that someone from my past has come back into my life. He'll know what to do."

For once, Nick was wise enough not to make any smartass comments, "I understand," was all he said before hanging up.

Turning back to Parker, who was eyeing him suspiciously, Jarod knew that she was about to start asking question of him. Questions he couldn't answer, and he knew better than anyone how dangerous Parker was when she didn't get her way.


	6. Chapter Six

a/n can be found at the end of this chapter.

******

It Must Have Been Love

Lay a whisper on my pillow,  
leave the winter on the ground.  
I wake up lonely,  
there's air of silence in the bedroom and all around.  
Touch me now,  
I close my eyes and dream away.  
  
It must have been love but it's over now.   
It must have been good but I lost it somehow.   
It must have been love but it's over now.   
From the moment we touched 'til the time had run out. 

Make-believing we're together,   
that I'm sheltered by your heart.   
But in and outside I've turned to water like a teardrop in your palm.   
And it's a hard winter's day, I dream away. 

It must have been love but it's over now,   
it was all that I wanted,   
now I'm living without.   
It must have been love but it's over now,   
it's where the water flows, it's where the wind blows.

******

It had been too good to be true. She saw the look on Jarod's face and knew their small reprieve was over. She had expected as much, but damn! It had happened sooner than she'd thought it would.

She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a single brow. "Well?" she demanded.

Jarod knew. She knew that. But then she saw the stubborn look pass over his face, she knew getting answers from him would be much like uncovering the Centre's secrets. Close to impossible.

Before Jarod could even open his mouth to refute anything was going on, Parker beat him to it. She stood up, hoping to be on more even ground with the man before her, and raised the other eyebrow.

"Don't even try lying to me, Jarod. Save whatever nice little falsehood you had on the tip of your silver tongue and don't bother."

Jarod grinned unrepentantly, "All right, Parker, but don't expect me to give you the truth, either."

Realizing she looked ridiculous standing there in just her silk shirt and nothing else, Parker had no choice but to stand her ground, after all, she had nothing else to lose, not even her pride. "Why not, Jarod? Just what is it you are hiding?"

He sighed, "Parker, please, I can't answer your questions. Don't push this."

"Can't or won't?" she threw at him.

He tightened his jaw, "For once, can't you just trust me?"

Parker turned away, unable to meet his eyes, "Why should I, when you obviously don't trust me either," she told him as she pushed passed him into the bathroom, "I need something to wear if we're leaving."

"We won't be leaving until after sundown."

Parker stopped, "Just why the hell not?" she turned towards Jarod to get a better gauge on just what he was hiding from her. "Did you not just tell whoever you so nicely termed "Gator Bait" that you would head back to New Orleans as soon as you could?"

He nodded, his jaw tensed as he waited for the inevitable question.

"Then why are we waiting for sundown? Tell me you're not pretending to be some sort of a vampire, Jarod," she demanded, hoping to goad him into giving her an answer.

There was that unrepentant smile again, so full of wickedness that Parker felt herself softening just a bit towards him.

"I'm not pretending to be anything, Parker. I cannot leave until after dark, so we wait."

Her eyebrow rose, and she wanted to strangle him for being so infuriating. Instead she merely took up the challenge. "Don't you think I deserve an explanation?" she asked sweetly, switching tactics.

He sighed in frustration, "Yes," then he spit out almost angrily, "But that doesn't mean that I can give you one, Parker, so don't push me anymore."

Giving vent to her own frustration, Parker let loose a growl and realized that she would get nothing from Jarod now. Not when he had obviously dug in was being obstinate about everything. Typical, she seethed, how typical of him to keep me in the dark about vital information!

The next few hours were spent with them glowering at each other from across the room, she sitting on the futon, her arms crossed over her chest, still dressed in just her silk blouse that showed her ridiculous lavender panties. Jarod was in the kitchen cooking up what looked like canned soup.

As the aroma wafted over to Parker's side of the cabin, her stomach growled fiercely, making her realize that she hadn't eaten since her bizarre dinner with Lyle the night before when he'd morbidly performed an autopsy on his sirloin.

She was watching him, knowing she shouldn't allow herself such a luxury like staring at Jarod's smooth, toned body. Especially when all he was wearing was his leather pants, and as she watched him putter about the kitchenette, Parker realized several things.

There was nothing sexier than a half-naked man cooking in the kitchen. And she was madly in love with the sexy, half-naked man currently cooking in the kitchen.

There, I've admitted it, twice now, she thought in somewhat of a panic. So why don't I feel better? Because I'm not so sure he loves me back.

Therein was the crux of her problem, of most of her problems. Just because she cared about someone, that didn't mean they reciprocated her feelings. But she just didn't care about this man; she truly loved him, and had for as long as she had known him. Over the years he had given her looks, left her clues, had even made love to her last night, but did he truly love her like she loved him?

She tore her eyes away from Jarod's body and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Oh god," she muttered under her breath, "One night in his bed, and already I'm acting like a lovesick, hormonal teenager." 

_Disgusting, Parker, truly disgusting_, her father's voice silently mocked her.

When her eyes finally stopped pleading with the ceiling, she saw that Jarod's intense gaze was fixed upon her and with one side of his mouth curled up in an amused smile, she knew he'd caught her not only talking to herself, but also casting his mysterious friend's ceiling beseeching looks for help. Wonderful.

"I figured you'd be hungry," he offered her a steaming bowl and spoon of chicken noodle soup.

Taking the bowl somewhat sheepishly, Parker began to eye the soup somewhat skeptically, before taking a hesitant swallow of the broth.

"I haven't eaten chicken noodle soup since I was in grade school," she told him, after her second bite.

Slowly, Jarod sat down on the futon beside her, but kept his distance from her. He gave her a charming, roguish smile before admitting he'd never had the stuff before.

Parker nodded, allowing herself to realize— if not for the first time, at least the first time in Jarod's presence—how much the Centre had stolen from him. She kept silent though, because she had nothing to offer him but an apology that she knew he would reject. It was then that Parker realized she had never come to New Orleans to take Jarod back to the Centre, but to find out why he had disappeared.

She eyed Jarod, sizing up her opponent. So far, all she'd done was whine and bitch at him. It was so uncharacteristically her, that Parker was a miffed with herself for acting so childishly. She needed to resort back to the tactics that had almost guaranteed results. And maybe a few previously untried ones. After all, she and Jarod had just moved to a whole new level in their bizarre relationship. She smiled as she finished off her soup, thinking to herself, he'll never know what hit him.

*******

Lyle had sent his team of sweepers to track down Jarod's lair, but like his sister before them, they were having difficulty tracking the Pretender because he followed none of his usual methods. He was not trying to help any downtrodden victim in need of justice. He wasn't trying to right any wrong.

So what exactly was Jarod doing in New Orleans?

Lyle couldn't take staring at the walls of his hotel room any longer. Ever since the day Lyle had been ordered to kill Sydney, Angelo, his little brother Ethan and the rest of Jarod's family, he dreamed about them. Even Jarod's pain-filled eyes haunted him at night, condemning him for his crimes against his family.

He retraced his steps down to the French Quarter, to the street he had last seen his sister and prowled the streets for the afternoon. The weather was almost unbearably humid and it wasn't long before his starched shirt clung to his skin, his face shone with a fine sheen of sweat. Lyle walked without really knowing where he was going.

When he looked up, it was to find himself in Jackson Square. Directly across the street from him was a woman wearing a black flowing dress and a large-brimmed straw hat next to a metal wheeled cart and a small table draped in a dark purple cloth. She was reading someone's fortune using Tarot Cards. On the cart was a sign in glittered paint that read: _Madam Selene Moon Mistress_.

Lyle looked around the rest of the square, saw the wrought iron fence that enclosed it, and where most of the vendors hawking their wares set up shop; next to the iron fence. A man playing the saxophone on the corner added to the general cacophony that surrounded him, but Lyle's eyes were continually drawn back to the fortune teller.

What the hell, he thought, it'll pass the time.

So Lyle crossed the street and waited for Madam Selene to finish up with her current customer. On closer inspection, Lyle saw that she was rather pretty in an eccentric way, with her frizzy brown hair pulled back from her face by what looked like a zebra-striped scarf. Her arms were covered in silver bracelets that jingled with her every movement; they matched the large silver hoops that dangled from her lobes, almost to her shoulders. The dress she wore would have been a staple in any witch's wardrobe a hundred years ago, but it somehow suited her, Lyle mused.

The older lady left, winking at Lyle as she passed, and he was suddenly not so certain having his fortune read would be such a good idea. Shit, he scowled at the woman sitting before him, what do I have to lose?

So he sat.

Madam Selene smiled at him, "Have you come to see what the Fates have in store for you?"

Lyle inclined his head, preferring not to truly commit himself to this foolishness. He'd never truly believed in these types of things, relegating them to the same place as he would anything else that required belief in some mystical, unseen power. Yet, here he was, like some hapless fool.

It reminded him of those damned scrolls Mr. Parker had died for, that Jarod and Parker had sought on the island of Carthis. Did he truly _not_ believe in a higher power? After all, the scrolls were supposed to be the source of his family's power in the Centre for so long. It had foretold about that arrogant son of a bitch, Jarod.

Shaking off whatever nonsense that had gripped him, Lyle returned his attention back to the fortune teller before him. She was looking him over, as if she had somehow divined his thoughts.

"What would you like to the Fates to reveal in the cards? Ask your question and the answers will be revealed to you," she told him, her words seemed to carry a powerful message as if she really communed with the Fates.

Lyle watched in fascination as Madam Selene shuffled her tarot cards deftly, she then laid the cards in a neat pile before him on the table, and waited expectantly.

What did he want to know? Uneasily, he admitted he was extremely worried about Parker. However, knowing goodie-goodie Jarod, she was in all likelihood safer with him than her own brother. What about Jarod? He had seen retribution in Jarod's fathomless eyes last night. Did he dare give voice to his fears aloud?

Clearing his throat, Lyle debated, all the while the sun beat down on him and the thick, swirling air seemed to choke him. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades and down his chest. _Make a decision, Lyle, goddamnit! You wanted a diversion, now be man enough to follow through. It's not as if you actually believe this bullshit. _The voice in his head screamed at him, an echo of his foster father's.

Shaken, Lyle blurted out the first question that came to mind, "Will I beat him?" he then reached out an unsteady hand and cut the deck.

The fortune teller held out her hand to him, her bangles jingling merrily. Lyle handed her the deck, wishing he could take back his hasty question, though the woman would never be able to understand what he'd meant by it, it made him feel extremely vulnerable even having revealed even a small part of his self-doubt to a stranger.

"Would you like me to do an in depth reading, mister?" she asked him.

He wanted to snap at her impatiently to be done with it as quickly as possible, but whatever had propelled him to walk across the street to her cart, urged him to answer, "Sure, might as well."

Madam Selene chuckled and began laying cards down on the table in front of him. She laid one in the center of the table and one on top of it, crossways over the first card. She then laid one card directly in front of Lyle, one to the right of the original two cards, one directly in front of her, and then one to the left. It made a cross of sorts. She then laid four cards, vertical to the pattern of cards, on Lyle's right.

Her expression went from interest to surprise, to false cheer as she looked up into Lyle's nervous gaze.

"Well," he prodded her impatiently.

Since Lyle had no idea what any of the cards meant, the fortune teller began explaining to him what the cards said.

"This first card talks about the overall situation, what surrounds you regarding this situation you've asked about. It is Magic reversed. It basically says that someone or something is manipulating things in secret. Whether it refers to you or someone else remains to be seen.

"This second card is what is influencing this situation, for good or ill. It's the Devil. There are a lot of lies involved. This says that there is an outside force manipulating the situation for evil. They want something and are willing to do what it takes to get it. You need to consider that."

Lyle nodded, but his mind drifted away. Absently he thought that there might be something to tarot cards after all.

Madam Selene's voice pulled him out of his reveries; she pointed to the third card, the one lying in front of him, and said "This card refers to what the basis of the whole problem is. It's the five of swords. This card means there's a struggle going related to what is happening, a lack of trust, and a need for protecting oneself. Right now, there's a truce of sorts, though how long that will last depends on the Fates."

"The fourth card tells us about the past, what influences are going or gone. This is the five of staves. It seems there was a lot of conflict, arguments, and petty disagreements that put a major halt to everything. Whether this was all in your head or involved the people around you, you need to remember that this sort of conflict helps no one."

By this time, Lyle's face barely registered the gamut of emotions he was truly feeling. He was too damn shocked.

"This card here," Madam Selene pointed to the card closest to her, "tells me about your current state of mind. Since it's the seven of swords reversed, that means you might be feeling paranoid, defensive, guilty, or a definite urge towards self-preservation. _Or_," she paused for effect, "all of the above," she winked at him then, seeing the look of utter disbelief on his face.

"How interesting," she muttered to herself, to him she merely went on with her explanation. "The sixth card talks about near future influences. It's the seven of staves, by the way. It means that there's going to be a fight. Even though you have the high trump card working in your favor, doesn't mean that you can avoid this conflict. You can win, but only after removing someone who opposes you, they have their own goals, and you need to remain aware of that.

"The seventh card is the card that talks about how you view what's happening, how you're being influenced. This card, Strength reversed, says that you're feeling the strain of what's happening, striking out at others. Again, I remind you that arguing doesn't help matters any.

"Number eight is how others view you. This is the Chariot reversed. You're impatient with those around you. You're not paying attention, either. They see you as indecisive and ineffective."

Lyle ground his teeth as he remembered that tomorrow he was officially being replaced.

"Almost finished. Number nine is all about your emotions concerning the whole affair. This card is the Tower reversed. This is actually a good thing. It's basically telling you to smile. Things are going to get better; you just have to believe it. Someone is working in your favor; you just have to trust them."

Lyle snorted, but remained silent.

Madam Selene looked up; she raised one of her eyebrows as if silently scolding him for his expression of cynicism in what she'd said. "Lastly, is what may come about, good or bad, on the choices you make from this moment on. Ooh, its Death reversed. Now, mind you, this is only based on this moment in time. Death reversed is basically saying you will never change, based on this moment." Selena looked up at Lyle and saw that he was still wearing the same expression he had when he'd snorted earlier. She took it upon herself to warn him, "Death has many faces, mister, and sometimes it's a good thing. Death can mean change for the better, something negative that was holding you back, has let go and now you can move forward. Unfortunately, this says you'll resist any changes, you fear them too much. Basically, that no matter how hard you struggle against it, you'll fail."

The humidity must have finally got to him, he concluded sourly, because he had almost believed everything the idiot woman had just said. Scowling, Lyle pulled out his wallet and threw a wad of bills on the table, not caring there were several twenties, a five and two ones, which put him about forty dollars over Madam Selene's fee. He stormed off, a chill of foreboding running up his spine. What if she was right?

What the hell was he thinking? If there was one thing Lyle didn't do, it was fail. He'd prove to Raines, the Tower, and the Triumvirate that he could catch Jarod. Or he'd die trying.

Selena watched her angry customer storm off and wondered who it was he was trying to beat and why it mattered so very much to him. Shrugging, she grinned unrepentantly as she gathered up the money the guy at literally thrown at her and stuffed it in the small cigar box she used to store money and her precious cards in.

Her mind was already racing ahead to that night; with the extra money she could treat her husband to a night on the town. It had been a while since they'd gone out together. Wouldn't Bill be thrilled?

Laughing to herself, Selena put the disturbing man out of her mind as another customer came up to have their fortune read.

********

His ears were still ringing from Artie's shrill demands. Ash gritted his teeth and pushed the manipulative goddess from his mind, concentrating on the task ahead. Damn that arrogant, little sack of … Ash grinned suddenly, his hands flying over the controls of his custom built helicopter. Ah well, Ash couldn't really blame Jarod for having broken _that_ code. In the two years since he'd turned, everyone knew that Jarod, like Kyrian before him, had been abstinent. Ash laughed, Kyrian had definitely had more control though.

But since Kyrian's wife was also the reason he'd turned Dark-Hunter, maybe it stood to reason that Kyrian was just waiting for the right women to come along and screw him … up. Ah, when did he start making stupid word plays in his mind? Was it after he'd been alive for a few hundred years? Life got real old, real quick. And as much as he was loath to admit it, very few things brought him pleasure anymore. Daimons just were not the challenge they'd been a couple of hundred years ago. With the exception of Jarod, no new hunters had been created recently, and the only excitement Ash saw anymore was fighting with Artie or reprimanding his wayward hunter.

Zarek had always given him hell, along with Valerius and a few others. Shit, he had thought Jarod was going to go strictly by the book since he'd failed to arouse anything more than a perfunctory irritation in Ash since he'd been trained. He kept to himself, he didn't contact people from his past life, didn't break any part of his sworn oaths. So why now?

It was because of this girl, Ash knew. Well, he thought, she better be worth the ass whoopin' he's going to get for this screw up.

*******

A/N: I finally got my site up, which you can visit and find the "other" version of this story @ e, even though I *DO* really like this song)

Disclaimer: Same as previous Chapter.

Synopsis: What happens when you take Jarod, turn him into an immortal vampire slayer, and throw in a lot of Parker, sarcasm, a gun, intrigue, Lyle, Raines and a mysterious female assassin sent by the Triumvirate? My story, what else? Duh! LOL


	7. Chapter Six Continued

A/N: This is the second half of chapter six, which because ffn is being retarded, it won't let me upload it in one file. Grrr -- enjoy!

Parker planned her assault well. But first, she had to lower Jarod's defenses. Other than their conversation over chicken noodle soup, Jarod had been silent and withdrawn, preferring to stalk the confines of the one room cabin. He looked uneasy and restless and frequently eyed the door longingly, as if itching to be free of this place. Occasionally he muttered to himself, though Parker strained to catch his mumblings, she failed every time. 

She tried to figure out how to get Jarod to quit prowling, but nothing came to her and since she had never been known for her subtlety, she decided to brazen it out. She stood up and stretched her cramped muscles, groaning in appreciation. Jarod glanced over at her sharply.

"Well, I think I'll go take a shower," Parker told Jarod as she walked across the room, she paused and threw him a smile over her shoulder, "I'm feeling pretty dirty right now."

She barely got two steps further before Jarod grabbed her from behind. He growled low in her ear, "I'm feeling pretty dirty too, mind if I join you?"

Turning in his embrace, Parker wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned impishly, "That depends, Jarod," she answered casually.

Cocking a dark brow, Jarod grinned, "On what?"

She almost forgot what she was trying to accomplish, but she knew that Jarod needed her, even if he himself didn't know it. Whatever he was involved in, he had needed someone to help him, and he had called to her. So she had to get him to tell her what was going on, no matter how distracting his wicked grins were.

"On whether we can both fit in that tiny shower stall!" she taunted.

"Are you sure you want to take a shower right now? I mean, you'll just get dirty again, no sense in not saving water."

Parker had to laugh at Jarod. Even when he was trying to seduce her, he was ever the practical one. But before Parker could come up with a retort to Jarod's innuendo, he picked her up and walked back over to the futon and laid her gently upon it.

She shook her head, "Oh no, you don't Jarod!" she slipped out from beneath him, used one hand to push him into the position she had just vacated and pursed her lips at him. "You've had your fun, it's my turn now."

Jarod tried to keep from looking too eager, but Parker could see the anticipation glittering in his eyes. He was like a kid in a candy store. She chuckled at her own little analogy.

"I'm at your mercy," Jarod whispered just before she leaned over and kissed him.

Though she felt dazed by the sheer sensation that coursed through her body, Parker was on a mission. She allowed Jarod's hands to divest her of her clothing once again until she was clad only in her ridiculous panties. She pulled back to look at Jarod. His eyes were glazed over, his chest heaving.

Before she could think better of her plan, or how it might backfire in her face, Parker leaned over to kiss Jarod again, which proved to be a great distraction technique. She then used her free hand to explore the floor to find her bra. She found it and tucked it underneath the mattress of the futon so it would be within easy reach.

Her next move was to run her sensitive fingers down Jarod's muscular arms, exploring every curve, feeling the hair that lightly sprinkled his forearms, then down to his hands, where she entwined her own fingers with his. Slowly, she brought his hands up over his head and pinned them down.

When she pulled back again, Jarod was grinning madly up at her, thinking she was only playing a game with him. She smiled back, whispered in his ear, "Yes, you are at my mercy."

Once more, she began kissing him, this time, her move was to get her bra near Jarod's hands to tie them to the frame of the futon. She managed it, though there were times when she wondered if Jarod suspected her or if he was just too busy enjoying the feel of her body on top of his. Before her guilt could stop her from doing what she knew needed to be done, Parker moved with an agility that both amazed and frightened her.

Before Jarod knew what was happening, Parker had pulled away from him and he realized his hands were bound to the futon by nothing more than that small slip of lace and spandex.

She pushed herself off of his body and bent down to pick up her shirt off the floor. It would give her a boost of confidence and a measure of control, something she needed desperately as her gaze returned to the betrayal she found in Jarod's eyes.

"What are you doing, Parker?" his voice was controlled, telling her just how angry he was with her.

If there was one thing Parker had learned in all her years of chasing Jarod, it was to never underestimate him. She went in search of something to reinforce the skimpy bra restraining Jarod's hands. All she found was her torn skirt and Jarod's black shirt. Without warning, she tore it into several strips of cloth and used them to tighten his bonds.

"Let me go, Parker."

She sighed, "I can't do that, Jarod. I need answers and until I get them, I don't intend to let you go. You said it, you're at my mercy," she answered, reverting back to being the huntress.

His jaw tightened in frustration or anger, or both. "I already told you I can't tell you, Parker. I've made a promise, I can't just break my word."

She wanted to roll her eyes, but refrained, instead she clucked her tongue, "That's too bad."

"Parker!" he yelled, his face turning a very interesting shade of red, she noted with some satisfaction, "Let me go!"

"Not on your life," she returned, her blue eyes narrowed on him. "When you answer my questions to my satisfaction, Jarod, then I might think about it. You'll have to suffer until then."

He locked his jaw stubbornly, she could see he was already trying to formulate a way out of the trap she'd laid for him.

She paced in front of him slowly, giving him ample time to view her long, slim legs. Every move she made was deliberate, calculated. She was in full-fledge Parker mode and though the stakes were just as high as ever, she found she liked this situation. She was going to help Jarod whether he wanted her to or not.

"Lyle told me what happened," she began softly, almost catching Jarod off guard. He strained against the shirt and bra, his biceps bulging. She knew he didn't want to discuss this, but she had to know what had happened the night she'd shot him. What had _really_ happened.

"How did you survive getting shot twice, Jarod? Lyle swears you died."

"How do you think, Parker? A Greek goddess offered me a chance at a new life, I got to live, and she got my soul. Seemed like the thing to do at the time," he snapped at her.

"Don't get flippant with me, Jarod," she retorted, "If I am going to help you, Jarod, I need to know what's going on."

Jarod was silent for so long after that, Parker began to wonder what was wrong with him, but when he opened his mouth, she was stunned.

"I don't need your help, Parker. In fact, once we leave this cabin and get back to New Orleans, you and I are going to part ways. I have work to do, and I don't need you distracting me."

Hurt beyond words, Parker turned away to blink back her tears, tears that she had no intention of letting Jarod see. She almost admitted defeat right then, her shoulders began to slump, and she was in danger of breaking down completely and untying Jarod. She moved to do so, but a voice stopped her.

_Ayngil, you can't give up on him. He loves you and he needs you. You are the only one who can save him, Ayngil. Don't let him push you away._

It was her mother's voice. In her mind's eye, she saw her mother smiling encouragingly at her, nodding her head towards where Jarod lay. Parker nodded back and swung around, the light of battle in her blue eyes.

"I don't think so, Jarod. You can't get rid of me so easily," she informed her captive audience archly. "I want some answers, Jarod, and if we have to sit here for the next week, we will. I can wait."

Something in her stance, in her face and eyes must have told Jarod she was serious, and indeed, she was. She could be just as stubborn as he could be, if not more so. If he wanted to keep silent then she had every intention of keeping him tied up until he was ready to talk.

"Parker," he began in a warning tone, she cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it, Jarod. Unless it's the truth. Remember, Jarod, you're a horrible liar and I can tell when you're not telling me the truth," she crossed her arms over her unbound breasts, expectantly.

He sighed in defeat. "Fine," he spat out; "You want the truth?" His black eyes burned with an unholy fire. He was pissed at her. "I watched Lyle shoot Sydney, my father, saw him execute everyone, including Ethan. Our little brother. He shot them all and didn't even blink an eye. You're right. Lyle shot me, I died, Parker. You want the truth? I told you the truth, Artemis appeared before me and offered me an Act of Vengeance, and in return she would resurrect me and I would become one of her Dark-Hunters.

Parker opened her mouth to tell him to forget it. For a moment, she had thought he was finally going to spill his guts. Damn him to hell. It was Jarod who cut her off.

"I'm not finished," he snapped. "I awoke and went after Lyle to kill him. You stumbled onto what happened after that, so I will leave out explaining to you that my revenge was interrupted. After I jumped out the window, I ran until I collapsed. I woke up here in New Orleans." He purposely left out mentioning Acheron to her.

Still skeptical, Parker shifted her weight to her left leg and stared down at Jarod. "All right. So I am supposed to believe that you were miraculously resurrected by a mythical figure. Why?" she demanded.

What the hell, he thought, might as well tell her all of it. She won't believe it anyway.

"Because of what Lyle did. He killed my family, Parker, murdered them in cold blood! Do you know what seeing your family killed before your eyes while you stand by, unable to prevent their deaths, does to you? All I'd done for the last five years is try to win some justice for people who needed it. What did I get in return? All the people I loved were killed because of me, which just to prove that no good deed goes unpunished."

His cynicism scared Parker, who had always relied on Jarod to look on the positive side of things, while she remained bitter and pessimistic. She had still thought him innocent, but had it all been a ruse so she wouldn't see how much agony he was in? God, it had only been two years. She sat down on the futon next to him.

She was ready to listen to what he was saying. Turning to him, she smiled gently, "So what exactly is a Dark-Hunter?"

He smiled at her in answer, and she gasped. This time he didn't bother to hide his fangs from her view.

"You're a vampire!" she looked horrified and disbelieving, she quickly scrambled off the futon and began backing away from him. "This has to be a nightmare," she whispered, her face pale and her lips bloodless.

Jarod strained against his bonds, wanting to go to her to reassure her. "Parker, wait."

His voice snapped her out of her stupor; she looked at him and relaxed somewhat. "What the hell is going on!" she demanded, reverting back to being the Ice Queen in her confusion.

"I'm not a vampire. I told you, I'm a Dark-Hunter."

She glared at him, "Like that explains everything!"

He chuckled, "All right, give me a chance to explain before you run screaming from this cabin and turn me into crispy fried chicken pre_tender_, okay?"

She nodded wordlessly, but she remained rooted to the where she stood. It made an adorable picture, Parker standing in the middle of the cabin, her silk shirt rumpled, eyeing Jarod as if he might go vamp on her and suck her blood.

"Dark-Hunters are, for the sake of a short explanation, soulless, immortal vampire slayers. We were created to protect humans from becoming second on the food chain. We were given many of the same abilities and strengths as vampires, but with one vital difference. We don't need human blood to survive."

Parker looked as if she still might have bolted from the room, but instead, she took a deep breath and tried to look calm and in control, but failed miserably.

"I don't know if you're telling me the truth, or if you've finally lost yourself in a pretend you were doing, Jarod, but I can't doubt what my inner sense says. As crazy as your story is, my inner sense says your telling the truth."

He sighed in relief. "Will you untie me now?" he added.

She debated seriously for a moment, but her common sense kicked in and she figured that if Jarod were truly going to hurt her, he would have definitely done it before now.

She had trouble getting the knots out, and was afraid she was going to have to get a knife to cut them loose, when Jarod told her, "Don't bother."

He strained for a few moments, before ripping through both her bra and the remains of his shirt. He sat up and rubbed the circulation back into his hands, while Parker gaped at him. He gave her a wry grin, "That's two pieces of your clothing I've ripped. I promise to replace them," he added sheepishly.

Parker sat down next to him heavily; she looked over at his hands and considered what had just happened. He'd broken his restraints if they'd been nothing more than a flimsy piece of string tying him down. He could have gotten free whenever he wanted to, but hadn't. Something else occurred to her and she turned to him.

"I wasn't hallucinating earlier when I thought you looked like some blond guy, was I? Its part of whatever you are now, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Sydney used to always say I could pretend to be anyone I wanted to be. I guess my Dark-Hunter powers took that one step forward. I can literally become anyone I want to be now. My new powers seem to have enhanced my pretender abilities. I have some precognizant flashes, during battle especially," Jarod paused, then added, "If the Centre ever got its hands on me again and managed to keep me, do you realize the implications of what would happen? It can't happen Parker. I'm not Jarod anymore and you have to go back and tell them that he doesn't exist anymore."

She nodded in agreement. They sat there for several minutes, then Jarod stood up, "It's sunset, Parker. It's time to get the hell out of here."

Looking up, Parker frowned, "How can you tell it's sunset? There's no way to tell what time of day from in here."

"I can feel it," he whispered. He demonstrated by walking over to the door and opening it. It was beginning to grow dark outside and the sun had already set.

Parker stared at Jarod uneasily. Then her eyes were drawn down to the tattoo on Jarod's stomach. Everything clicked in her mind, and she realized why it had looked so familiar to her before. It was the symbol of the Greek goddess of the hunt. Instead of commenting on it, she grabbed Jarod's leather jacket from the back of the futon where she'd thrown it that morning.

He raised a brow as she slipped his jacket on. He prowled over to where she stood, swallowed by the folds of his jacket. Her eyes looked up into his, luminescent in the coming twilight that permeated the cabin now that Jarod had opened the door.

He reached into the jacket and began removing items that she hadn't even realized were stowed in its deep recesses. His cell phone was the last thing he pulled out. She looked down and saw all the weapons in Jarod's hands. A long sword, a PDA, a wicked looking knife, and lastly, a 9mm. All the items disappeared on Jarod's person as he pulled his black leather biker boots on and ran his fingers through his messy hair. Except the sword, which he hooked to the waist on his jeans.

Flipping open his cell phone, Jarod pushed a button and waited a moment.

"Yeah it's me, gator bait. Who'd you think it would be using my phone? A polite little Daimon, just calling to say he loved you?"

Whatever response Jarod got made his eyes twinkle and his lips twist in wry humor.

"Sorry, Nicky, I'm not into pretty little boys like you."

Jarod laughed loudly to the response he got. "You're not my blood type either. Listen, I need some new clothes and weapons brought to Talon's. I don't have time to go back to my place tonight."

He paused, the responded, "Because you don't want me to hunt you down, Nick. Once I was through with you, you'd not only be single for the rest of your life, but a eunuch as well." Laughing in unholy delight, Jarod threw a wink at Parker, who wondered what she'd gotten herself into.

"I thought so. I'll see you in a little while."

After Jarod had hung up the phone and got Parker settled into the catamaran, she couldn't help but ask, "Are you sure your friend will come after what you just said to him?"

It was the last question Jarod expected to come out of her mouth, especially after all the ugly phone conversations they had shared over the years. He grinned as he started up the catamaran and began navigating the swamp, "I think he would be offended if I didn't. Nick is a smart ass. He just likes giving Dark-Hunters hell, but he always comes through. He's a squire, a human who has sworn to protect and serve Dark-Hunters."

"Perhaps I should call Lyle. I am certain he has informed Raines that you kidnapped me. I need to let Lyle know I am okay before the Centre sends reinforcements down here to look for us both."

It was now completely dark, so neither could see each other. Jarod hesitated, although he knew Parker was right. He just wasn't so certain he wanted to let her go, not until he absolutely had to. Finally, he answered her, "All right. But wait until we reach the other side of the swamp."

"Okay."

Jarod knew he needed to tell Parker something, but he just couldn't get the words to form. He swallowed heavily, wishing he could explain to Parker all of the feelings in his heart, but there just wasn't enough time. He flexed his jaw, remembering a time when he had begged her to start over with him. She had been the one to push him away. Now it was his turn. She couldn't stay in his world any longer, and as loath as he was to give her up when she had finally allowed him to breach her defenses, he had no other choice.

Unable to find the words, Jarod could only content himself with sailing through the darkness with her, praying that it would last for eternity and knowing it could not.


	8. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: Acheron Parthenopaeus, Nick Gautier, Talon of the Morrigantes(sp), Kyrian of Thrace, Madam Selene, Amanda Devereaux-Hunter and all other Dark-Hunters are a registered trademark of Sherrilyn Kenyon, © ?-2003. I am merely a humble fan who wishes to pay homage to one of my favorite authors. You go girl!

Miss Parker, Jarod, Lyle, Sydney, Ethan, Margaret, Charles, Mr. Raines, Mr. Parker, (and any other Pretender character I might have mentioned) are property of TNT, AOL TimeWarner, Craig W. Van Sickle, Steven Long Mitchell and whoever else owned/owns them during the Pretender's 4 season run on NBC and it's re-airing on TNT. It's just that I love these people so much, even though I know they don't actually exist. To me, they will always exist in my heart and the heart of other fans like me who keep these characters alive by writing fic about them. Someday, the Powers that Be will listen to us and put the entire four seasons on DVD, perhaps in time for next Christmas????? *here's hoping*

On with the FIC!

Synopsis: Though MP and J have just shared an incredible night of passion, Jarod knows that it is forbidden to be with her. Lyle has just had a run-in with Selena, who freaked Lyle out when she accurately "saw" what was going on. Our unknown female assassin sent by the Triumvirate is due to arrive anytime after sun up, and MP is only wearing a silk shirt, and her lavender panties… there is something seriously wrong here, since J has just torn two pieces of her clothing apart. Any questions? Mwehehehehehe!!!!

*********

The shack appeared all too soon.

Jarod expertly steered the catamaran into the dock inside the dilapidated building and helped Parker out of it. He unlocked the door and they exited the building, with Jarod closing the door with the small remote control and replacing it inside the bizarre mailbox.

Nick wasn't there yet.

Jarod handed Parker the cell phone, "Here. Call Lyle."

Taking the phone, Parker dialed her brother's number and waited for him to pick up. It took four rings before he finally answered brusquely, "What?"

"Lyle, it's Parker," she finally answered, her eyes never leaving Jarod's face as she spoke.

Jarod, however, seemed to be all but ignoring her, refusing to meet her eyes in the darkness. It was so frustrating.

There was silence. "Where the hell are you, Parker?" Lyle managed to demand when he could finally speak again.

"You don't want to know," she evaded, "Listen, I am fine, the guy that kidnapped me wasn't Jarod after all. He looks a lot like him, but I've spent the last 24 hours with him. He knows nothing about us."

Lyle snorted, "Quit screwing with me, Parker. I am not in the mood for whatever bullshit you have up your sleeve. We bring Jarod back to the Centre, together. That's final."

Parker closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a headache coming on, "Lyle, listen very carefully to what I am saying," she began slowly, as if she were talking to a dimwitted child and not her twin brother who was equally as shrewd as she. "This man is not Jarod. He has nothing to do with this. Jarod is dead. How can you doubt what you and I both saw that night? I shot him; hell, you shot him, for god's sake. He can't have survived two shots like that."

She had succeeded in shutting Lyle up for a moment, but he recovered quickly, "If that's true, then how did he know my name? For someone who knows nothing about us, he certainly seemed to know enough to fool us both that night."

Parker was trying to come up with a retort when Lyle spoke up again, "Shit, he's finally gotten to you, hasn't he? That son of a bitch, you're on his side now, aren't you? Well it's too late, Parker!" Lyle began laughing hysterically, almost, "It's too late, because our Daddy dearest is sending someone else in to clean up this little mess."

Stunned, Parker felt as if the ground had suddenly dropped from underneath her, "What the hell are you talking about, Lyle? Who did Raines send in to replace us?" she practically yelled.

"If I were you, Parker, I'd get as far away from Jarod as I could. Hell, if you can't live without the bastard, take him with you, but get out of New Orleans tonight. Don't you know what you're up against? The orders to bring Jarod in unharmed came directly from the Triumvirate. Just like the orders to capture and execute Jarod and his family did. I didn't even have to search for any of them, not even Jarod. The location of each of my targets was provided with the orders. All I had to do was go pick them up."

The implications of Lyle's confession scared the hell out of Parker. She blanched and opened her mouth, but couldn't find her voice.

Lyle's voice softened, "I know I am the last person you would ever expect to hear this from, but get out, sis. Get away from then Centre, while you can. They're going to kill us both, the Parker name be damned, for failing to capture Jarod."

"Lyle," Parker choked out, afraid of what he had said, "Come with us then," she whispered.

There was a humorless chuckle, "You know I can't. For one, Jarod would kill me the first chance he got; and two, I'm too far infected with this disease. It's too late for me to change from what I am now, sis."

Though Parker would never have admitted 24 hours ago, she did then, "I can't lose you, Lyle. Not you too," the words were one of the hardest she had ever said out loud.

He paused before he finally told her, "You'll survive, Parker. You always have. Somehow, I'll find a way to survive as well. If there was one thing Mr. Parker passed on to us both, it was survival at all costs," he swallowed heavily, "Promise me you'll get away from this life, before its too late for you too, Parker."

"I promise," she whispered so softly, just before Lyle hung up the phone.

She would have crumpled to the ground, but Jarod was there, holding her and stroking her hair. He wiped away the tears she didn't even know she cried, pulled her close enough to absorb her trembling into his own body. He whispered words of comfort, some nonsensical, some just assurances that he would always be there for her, knowing that even as he spoke them, he could never fulfill them.

When Parker got a hold on herself, she pushed away from the comfort Jarod offered her and walked a few steps into the darkness to separate herself from simply losing herself in Jarod's strength. It would be so easy to do, she thought. However, from what Jarod had told her, she knew that he had been serious about them parting ways. She had seen it in his eyes, in his face before they had left.

"Lyle told me something you should know," she spoke quietly, after she knew her voice would no longer tremble.

"What would that be?"

Parker took a deep breath, "He said that when he was ordered to bring you and your family in, the orders came directly from the Triumvirate, that he didn't even have to search for you," she paused, "Because each of your locations was already included with the orders."

Jarod sucked in a sharp breath.

Parker pushed on, not allowing Jarod to speak, "He also said that because he and I failed to bring you in, Raines is sending a replacement, doubtless from the Triumvirate, since our present orders came directly from there as well."

She felt him walk to her and put his arms around her slender body hesitantly; "They will never stop hunting me."

She turned to him then, her eyes shining with the tears she refused to shed, "Leave New Orleans, Jarod. We can go together. I don't want to go back now. Not after all that has happened. There is nothing left for me there."

Jarod shook his head violently; "I can't Parker. I can't run anymore."

Her laugh sounded strained and brittle, even to her own ears, "You can't win, Jarod. As long as the Centre exists, the Triumvirate, they will never stop hunting you! They're the ones making up all the rules to whatever twisted little game they want to play."

Jarod leaned down and placed a feather light kiss on her forehead, calming her down quite a bit by the serenity he presented, "Trust me, Parker. The Centre cannot even hope to win against me. Don't you think my Dark-Hunter brethren won't help me if I need it? I've got the resources of the ancient Greek gods at my disposal, and the power to transform myself into anyone I want to be," he wrapped his arms tighter about her body and simply held her. "I'm tired of running, Parker."

She allowed herself to lean against his hard body, allowed herself to absorb some of his strength. It was such a relief to be able to do that. To rely on someone else to protect her, to hold her, something she hadn't been able to do since her mother died. She calmed down and simply inhaled the intoxicating scent she'd come to associate with Jarod. Leather and musk.

"Awwwwww, how sweet. Somebody get me a Kodak quick!" an extremely sarcastic voice surprised them both.

Feeling like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Parker jumped and pulled away from Jarod.

"Nick," Jarod greeted the stranger, "Bout time you got here."

Though it was too dark to really get a good look at him, Parker could see her was tall, looked to be in his mid-twenties with long, dark brown hair.

"Yeah, well screw you, Jarod. I couldn't get into your damn house; you're lucky I found the key. You're fake dog poop was not funny. My hands STILL smell like shit," Nick groused as he led Jarod and Parker back to an all black Viper and opened the door. Nick rummaged around the backseat of the car for a moment before pulling out a new set of clothes for Jarod.

Jarod just laughed as he grabbed the clothes and began undressing without batting an eye at either of them.

"Ah jeez," Nick muttered as he turned away, "You know, you didn't have to pick up all their bad habits, Jarod. You're not some ancient warrior with no sense of shame, shit." To Parker, he explained, "Most Dark-Hunters are used to parading around naked for the hell of it. They don't care who sees them," Nick laughed, "I always figured that since Jarod was the Renaissance man, he wouldn't drop his drawers for all the gods to see."

Parker began laughing too; her eyes never left Jarod's amazing body as he dressed in the clothing Nick had brought him. A black cotton shirt, a tight pair of black denim jeans. He didn't ask her for his jacket back.

"Jarod has always surprised me with his ability to adapt so well," she told Nick, finally turning to face him and getting a good view of his features for the first time by the dome light inside the Viper. He was handsome and did he know it, too. The way his hazel-blue eyes twinkled, his dimples appeared whenever he smiled, he looked cocky.

She also saw that he was eyeing her bare legs with more interest than she liked. But before she could do anything to teach Nick a lesson in manners, Jarod grabbed Nick and shoved him away towards where his bike was parked.

"You get the drive the crotch rocket home, Nick," he told him a little too cheerfully, "And by the way, have some respect for the lady, Nick. I seriously doubt you want me to watch her kick your ass, do you?"

Nick snorted, "Yeah right—" but Jarod cut him off.

"Never underestimate her, Nicky." Jarod warned as he crossed his arms over his chest and smiled so devilishly that Parker couldn't help but play along with him. She eyed Nick as if she would have liked nothing more than to do exactly as Jarod had threatened. "The last time I underestimated her, she dislocated her thumb just so she could shoot me," Jarod chuckled.

Nick sneered at them both, but he ambled obediently over to the bike and moments later sped off down the rode.

They both got into the car and rode in silence, until Parker finally asked him, "Where are you taking me?"

Jarod tensed at the question. But hell, he'd been expecting it. He took a deep breath and prayed that he was doing the right thing by being honest with her. "I'm taking you to a friend. You'll be safe there until you decide where you want to go."

Parker wanted to hit him, for the blank look on his face, so impersonal that she could have meant nothing to him. Instead she snapped, "You're getting rid of me so soon?"

"Parker," he began, his voice cracked. He looked at her briefly and she swore she could see the pain he was in, but the next moment he was impassive again, "When I became this, I took oaths. I walk alone, Parker. It's forbidden for me to be with you. Gods, you don't even know how many codes I've broken in the last twenty-four hours. Besides, if you stay with me, you'd become a Daimon target. No matter how capable you are, you couldn't fight these guys, Parker. They'd eat you for breakfast. Literally." 

She sighed, "So what are we supposed to do now? Are you just going to walk away from me? Pretend last night never happened?"

"No!" he said the word so forcefully that she had no choice but to believe it. "Parker, do you know how long I've wanted you? Wanted this?" he glanced over at her again, his grip on the steering wheel was so tight, she saw his knuckled protruding. "From the very first moment I laid eyes on you, when my heart rate increased and my stomach tightened, I didn't even know what was happening to me, but I knew it was because of you."

She turned away and looked out at the passing trees, wishing that she could go back to when Jarod had asked her to run away with him just after his capture on the island of Carthis. She crossed her arms over her breasts again, this time to shield her heart from the pain she felt.

"Parker," his voice broke over her name, "I – I have no choice," he finally murmured.

She nodded, resolute. But for just a moment, she had thought he was going to tell her he loved her. Something he had yet to tell her. Damn him, she thought peevishly, if he thinks he can just screw me and then dump me off on someone else, he's dead wrong.

The rest of the ride was silent.

A familiar custom built Buell motorcycle sat outside the house that Jarod pulled up to in the Garden District. He should have known that Ash would be there, ready and waiting to kick his ass back in line. He heaved a sigh and got out of his car, and then led Parker up the walkway and knocked on the door.

Amanda Devereaux-Hunter answered the door. She was an attractive woman, with long curly, dark auburn hair pulled into a ponytail and pretty blue eyes. On her hip was a blond moppet, with her father's hazel-green eyes that were more green than hazel.

Jarod smiled widely at the pair, "Hey Amanda, Kyrian's home right?"

Amanda gave Jarod a welcoming smile in return; she looked pretty tired though. "Yeah, he's in his study. With Ash." She opened the door wider and allowed both Jarod and Parker to slip past her.

"Amanda, this is Miss Parker," Jarod introduced them.

"Nice to meet you," Parker murmured, Amanda nodded and smiled back at her.

Marissa reached for Jarod, her chubby face breaking into a smile as Jarod spoke. "Uuh!" she vocalized, expressing her wish to be picked up by Jarod.

Jarod reached for her, and then Amanda turned her attention to Parker. "Hi, sorry about the wreck this place is in. Marissa learned to walk a few weeks ago and I've been running after her ever since."

"Why don't I take Marissa to see her daddy, then. You look like you could definitely use a break Amanda," Jarod offered.

Nodding her head and giving Jarod a grateful smile, Amanda sighed, "Thanks Jarod," she turned to Parker, "Would you care for something to drink, Miss Parker?"

Jarod was still cuddling the little girl, but she caught his eye and he nodded to her, so Miss Parker pasted on a fake smile and agreed to get a drink with Amanda. Though it annoyed her that she had let herself be dismissed so easily, Miss Parker walked behind Amanda into the kitchen, and watched as she poured her a glass of water.

Eyeing her guest up and down, Amanda smiled indulgently, "You need some clothes. Jeans, t-shirt and a pair of sneakers all right with you?"

Parker was a little taken aback, but knew she looked a little ridiculous standing there in an over-sized leather jacket that only covered her to her knees, an unseen pair of lavender panties complete with embarrassing yellow daisies and a rumpled silk shirt. "That sounds wonderful, thank you," she said quietly.

Nodding, the younger woman left and came a back a few minutes later, carrying a pair of faded denims, a pink sweater, a pair of white socks and scuffed tennis shoes. After being directed to the bathroom, Parker gratefully changed her clothes and once she was fully dressed again, she felt almost human. If it weren't for the fact that she was still bra-less and wearing clothes a bit too baggy for her slim figure, she would have felt more herself again.

She came back out and found the kitchen where Amanda was waiting for her at the kitchen table.

"I can see it in your eyes. You're pretty bewildered. I take it that Jarod told you about his unusual occupation?" she waited for Parker's confirming nod before continuing, "I'm almost just as certain that he didn't explain everything to you either?"

"No, he didn't."

"Ask away."

Parker blinked, not used to having someone be so completely open about something that was so obviously a secret. She nodded though, but still not certain how to begin. "Your husband? He's a Dark-Hunter?"

Amanda shook her head, "No, he _was_. He's … retired."

Frowning, "I didn't think this was the sort of job you could retire from. I hadn't seen any 401k forms to fill out, either."

Laughing, Amanda took a drink from her glass of water, "No, usually Dark-Hunters don't retire. However, Kyrian's a special case. You see, he found his out-clause, a way to drain his Dark-Hunter powers." Here Amanda blushed, but then she held out her hand for Miss Parker to examine, the palm was scarred badly, she saw.

"What happened?"

"I gave Kyrian back his soul."

Her own blue eyes wide, Miss Parker wanted to ask all of the questions she had running through her mind, she just didn't know where to start. So she asked Amanda to tell her everything.

Chuckling, Amanda shook her head, "Where do you want me to begin?"

Parker raised an eyebrow, "How about at the beginning?"

Amanda nodded, an amused smiled still on her face. She began explaining about the origins of the Apollites, Apollo's curse, and how Artemis began creating her Dark-Hunters to combat the Daimons.

"So these Daimons are the vampires?" Parker asked

Nodding, Amanda could tell her guest was having trouble believing her, "Yes. As I understand it, the term vampire didn't even exist back then."

Parker, who prided herself on knowing what threats surrounded her, couldn't help but ask skeptically, "But there can't be that many vampires, can there?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Miss Parker. There are countless Daimons, that many more Apollites yet to turn, and thousands of Dark-Hunters to combat them."

It was too much for Parker. She had always lived in the real world, she told herself. Yet, even she couldn't deny that there were some unexplainable things in this world. Her inner sense was one of them.

She finally worked up the nerve to ask the question she hadn't dared to think, "How did you get your husband's soul back?"

Amanda sighed. "I didn't. Acheron did."

Frowning, Parker demanded, "Who the hell is Acheron?"

If Amanda was offended by Parker's show of temper, she had the grace not to betray it, making Parker feel uncharacteristically guilty for slipping. Instead, Amanda smiled sympathetically, "Acheron is like their unofficial leader. He's the oldest and the very first Dark-Hunter. Whenever Artemis makes a new Hunter, she sends Ash to train them. Whenever a Dark-Hunter gets out of line, Ash is also the one who is sent in to deal with them."

That sent a chill of foreboding down Parker's spine. "How?"

Amanda hedged, "Well, it all depends on what they've done."

Though Amanda was clearly reluctant about saying anything more, Parker's interrogation skills had been honed on more tight-lipped and secretive prey than she. "Amanda, whatever you know, you must tell me."

"Oh all right. I'm not certain how accurate this is, but there's a rumor that Acheron is Artemis' unofficial assassin whenever a Dark-Hunter gets out of line and goes rogue. Dark-Hunters have an very strict code of conduct they must abide by, and if they step out of line, there are consequences to what they've done."

Jarod's words came back to haunt her: _It's forbidden for me to be with you. Gods, you don't even know how many codes I've broken in the last twenty-four hours._

Parker had to know what she was up against, "What about what Jarod did? I've known him since he was a child. He kidnapped me yesterday evening and took me to some cabin out on the bayou."

Amanda's face was comical, "Woah. That's not good, though not unlike what Kyrian did to me," Amanda giggled girlishly.

Somewhat relieved, Parker couldn't help but ask, "What exactly did Kyrian do to you?" Whatever had happened couldn't have been too bad, because Kyrian was still alive with all his vitals intact.

"Well, he didn't kidnap me. A Daimon named Desiderius did who then proceeded to handcuff us together. Once I was free, he tried to leave me, but he just couldn't. He ended up bringing me here for several days. Once Desiderius almost killed Kyrian, Ash consulted the Oracle who said something to the effect that the only one who could beat Desiderius was the Dark-Hunter with a soul. Which is impossible since Artemis keeps all of her Hunter's souls in case a Daimon gets lucky and beats a Dark-Hunter; they wouldn't be able to steal the most powerful souls of all.

"That was when Ash came to me. He's truly scary. You'll probably get to meet him soon, since he'll want to see for himself why Jarod would break so many rules for you. When you meet him, you'll see what I mean. Anyway, Ash wanted to know if I truly loved Kyrian, because if I failed the test I had to take, then Kyrian would be lost forever." Amanda's eyes looked a bit haunted.

Parker could only assume Amanda had passed, "So you were able to restore Kyrian's soul."

Amanda nodded. "I won't lie to you, Miss Parker. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I had to let Desiderius kill Kyrian, after I drained his powers. I stood there and watched as that monster released a bolt straight into his heart, watched Kyrian die thinking I'd betrayed him, heard him whisper his last words in my ear: _I love you, Amanda_. Only then could I place the medallion over the double crossbow and release his soul back into his body."

Parker nodded, her face impassive as she thought about what Amanda had said. But she had come so far now. She realized she wanted Jarod for her own, if only she knew that was what he wanted too.

"How did Acheron get Kyrian's soul?"

Amanda's eyes widened, "I have no idea. I asked Sunshine the same thing. She doesn't know either, and no one else seems to know."

"Sunshine?"

"Oh, right," Amanda laughed sheepishly, "I forgot you didn't know everyone. Sunshine is Talon's wife. He owns the cabin you and Jarod stayed at last night."

Parker blushed, but then she sat up straighter, "Is Talon tall, blond, extremely good looking, with some sort of a brogue and Celtic tattoos?"

Amanda nodded slowly, "You've met him?"

Parker had to laugh then. The strange man that Jarod had transformed himself into to ease the alligators, it had to have been Talon. "No," she admitted, "But Jarod showed me what he looks like."

Clearly confused, Amanda decided not to pursue that. Instead she stood and asked Miss Parker if she wanted to rest, but Parker declined. "I'm not tired right now."

Stretching and yawning, Amanda laughed sheepishly, "It's way past Marissa's bedtime, and I am exhausted. When you're ready to go to bed, let Kyrian know and he will show you to your room, all right? I hope you don't mind."

Shaking her head, Parker couldn't help but smile. "No, go ahead."

Amanda disappeared out the door.

Parker sat there for a little while longer, thinking about what Amanda had told her.

Jarod climbed the stairs and found Ash and Kyrian right where Amanda had said they would be. As soon as Marissa saw her daddy, she wiggled from Jarod's arms and toddled over to Kyrian, who stooped and picked up the child and snuggled her close.

Ash merely stood there watching Jarod, his eyes were covered by sunglasses, and today his hair was flaming orange and red. It was something of a joke among most Dark-Hunters how often Ash changed hair color. One day it would be blue, then black, then purple. There were bets going around as to whether Ash was a true blond, brunette or red head.

"I think I'll go play with Marissa," Kyrian laughed as he watched Jarod and Ash simply stare at each other.

Once Kyrian left the room, Ash took off his sunglasses. His eerie gaze unsettled Jarod, but he refused to let Ash intimidate him.

When Ash spoke, his voice was quiet, but deadly nonetheless. "She had better be worth it, Jarod."

He gritted his teeth at Ash's tone, "She is."

Ash stalked forward, towering over Jarod by several inches, his face pressed closer until Jarod felt stifled by him. "Are you certain? I don't think you're exactly one to judge for yourself. You should know better than to let a piece of ass get in the way of your duties."

His fist clenched involuntary, "Ash," Jarod hissed in warning.

"Listen Jarod, this is no longer about you. Once you became a Dark-Hunter, you took that on. I am not going to allow you to put everyone in danger just so you can get laid."

Jarod took a swing at Ash before he even realized he intended it. Ash simply laughed at him as he dodged the blow, then threw his own punch that caught Jarod right in the jaw and sent him sprawling on the floor.

"Man, you're as bad as Talon was," Ash commented idly as he leaned over and offered Jarod a hand. Jarod glared up at Ash, but he took the hand anyway and was hauled to his feet.

"You're a real asshole, Acheron, you know that?"

Ash just sighed, "Yeah, I've heard that one before," he answered dryly. He opened his mouth again, but another voice beat him to it.

"Yeah, and if I remember correctly, his retort was something along the lines of, I'm an Ash, not an ass." Kyrian laughed as Jarod turned and threw him a sour look. "Oooh, Jarod, you've got the dark and evil look down pat. I'm impressed."

Ash didn't look amused at Kyrian's interruption. "Well, I think I'll be even more impressed when you guys come up with better insults. In the last one hundred years alone, do you know how many Hunters have called me an ass? I've beat the shit out of some Daimons who had better material than you guys."

This time both Kyrian and Jarod laughed at Ash's annoyed tone.

"Don't worry Jarod, he's just insulted because you dared throw a punch at him," Kyrian taunted.

"Heh, no. I'm annoyed because I had to listen to a pissed off goddess rant about one of my Hunters breaking all sorts of rules and causing undo attention to himself," Ash answered, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave each man before him a piercing look with his metallic, ever-shifting eyes.

"I know what I am doing," Jarod insisted, meeting Ash's piercing stare, "I came to Kyrian because I was hoping he could help me find somewhere for her to go. She's no longer safe and I can't just abandon her."

"Perhaps now is a good time to explain to me who was chasing you the night Artemis sent me to you."

Jarod's look said he'd rather not, but he owed it to these men to at least let them know what sort of enemy they were up against.

"When I was six years old, I was kidnapped by this organization called the Centre. I was kept there for most of my life, forced to run simulations, forced to be their guinea pig. They used many of my sims by selling them to the highest bidder, who then used what I'd thought up to kill hundreds of people. I escaped from the Centre in 1996. I began helping people, using my gifts to bring justice to those that deserved it.

"The Centre wanted me back, and ever since my escape, they've sent people after me. Miss Parker is the one who led the search. Two years ago, I was captured by her twin brother, Mr. Lyle and my entire family was murdered in cold blood before my very eyes. The only person that I loved that wasn't killed was _her_. When I was shot and killed, well you guys know the rest. I agreed to Artemis' terms and when I tried to get my revenge against Lyle, Miss Parker stopped me by shooting me in the back."

Ash and Kyrian, both, burst in laughter. Ash clapped him on the back, "Jarod, if I didn't know any better, I would say you were full of shit. Unfortunately, I was told what you were and that someday your past might catch up to you."

"Your belief in me is overwhelming, Ash. But I have bigger problems than your belief or disbelief. I am tired of running; I am tired of looking over my shoulder. I want it to end."

"Off hand, I'd say that Jarod is right. We need to get these people off Jarod's ass for good," Kyrian commented.

Ash nodded, "All right, Jarod. You know better than any of us what they are capable of, so what do we have to do to get rid of these bastards?"

A creak by the door caused all three men to look up sharply. There stood Miss Parker. She didn't smile at any of them, just merely gave them a challenging stare that told them she would not be leaving without a fight.

"It's not as simple as that," she finally told them, "The Centre is an entire network, their influence is everywhere, unseen, but definitely there."

Kyrian and Ash both seemed to be sizing her up, Jarod gave her his dopey half-grin, which she ignored. She walked into the room and shut the door behind her.

"So how do we get rid of them?" Kyrian asked.

Parker's smile was more a smirk as she stared at the three men before her. All of them were extremely handsome; the one she figured was Acheron especially, except for those mercurial eyes that shimmered eerily. He was one of the tallest men she had ever seen, dressed in a black leather jacket, no shirt, metal studs running down the seam of his leather pants and black biker boots, similar to the ones Jarod was wearing, but the metal work on them was completely different.

The one she figured to be Amanda's husband was just as devastatingly attractive. He was blond, lean, and muscular like a predator. His gaze was sharp and intelligent, with hazel-green eyes and classic Grecian features; he was a man to be reckoned with. Yet, Parker had eyes only for the lethally dark man between them. Jarod. With his dark hair, black eyes, and well-known features, he was easily the most handsome man in the room to her.

She shrugged, "I'm not even certain it can be done. When my great-grandfather first came to America, he was supposed to have brought these scrolls with him that foretold his family's rise to power. Then the Triumvirate came along and only left control in my father's hands because they thought he still possessed them."

"What scrolls?" Ash asked sharply, his gaze fixed on her.

Jarod was giving Parker a measured look now, his eyes never left hers as he answered for her, "The Vespusian scrolls. They were hidden on an island off the coast of Scotland for hundreds of years called Carthis, until Parker and I found them almost three years ago. Her father took them and jumped out of a plane with them in his arms, and has not been seen or heard from since."

Kyrian was watching Acheron's reaction to Jarod and Parker's revelation, finally he asked, "Do you know what they're talking about, Ash?"

But Ash didn't answer. He seemed very far away for a moment before finally answering, "Did either of you get to read the scrolls? Do you know what they said?"

Both Parker and Jarod shook their heads. "We never got the chance. Her father caught us just as we found them and we were taken back to Scotland."

Ash nodded, then looked straight at Parker, "You mentioned a Triumvirate. Who are these people?"

Parker shook her head, "I only know they are located somewhere in Africa. As far as any knows only my fa – Mr. Parker or Mr. Raines has ever had contact with them. They've sent two different men, but I think they were only mediators, not actually part of the Triumvirate."

His face tense, Ash put his Ray Bans back on his face and pushed past everyone to leave. Jarod's voice stopped him.

"What do you know that you're not telling us, T-Rex?"

He didn't even both turning around, "Your friend stays here for the night, Jarod. You need to patrol your area and I have some things to take care of." With that, he was gone, out the door and they all heard the faint rumble of his motorcycle rev and take off down the street.

"Well, you can bet whenever Ash evades a question so neatly, he's hiding something." Kyrian remarked dryly.

Jarod looked over at Parker, who looked adorably uncertain as she stood there. "The only question is what?"

"So that's your boss?" Parker asked after a few moments of silence.

Jarod nodded.

"Why do his eyes look like that?" she wondered.

Neither man knew, or else they didn't want to tell her. She wasn't certain which one, because Kyrian and Jarod glanced over at each other blankly.

Finally, Kyrian spoke up, "No one really knows. Ash doesn't like to talk about himself or what he knows. All I know is that ever since I've known him, he's been just as he is now."

"Just how long have you known him?"

Kyrian grinned, "Twenty-one hundred years."

Parker gaped; she just couldn't help it. He looked pretty damn good for a man that was over two thousand years old!

Kyrian merely laughed, amused by her reaction. He held out a hand to her, "I'm Kyrian Hunter, by the way."

Parker took his hand and shook it, "I figured as much. Marissa has your eyes."

Again, Kyrian grinned. "I'll leave you two alone, your room is just down the hall, second door to the left, when you're ready for bed."

Jarod growled low in his throat as Kyrian threw him a wicked smile on his way out.

"Nice people you work with, Jarod." Parker told him.

He smiled and shrugged, "They're sarcastic bastards, but I don't know anyone else I'd rather have at my back."

She smiled softly. "You should go. I don't want you getting into anymore trouble because of me."

He closed the distance between them, his presence invading her senses. He used his forefinger to lift her chin up so that she could see the longing in his black eyes. "Parker," he began softly.

"Yes?" she whispered, her voice breaking because she wondered if he might actually tell her how he felt about her.

Why was it so hard for him to admit it? He didn't know, so instead of telling her what was in his heart, he leaned down and kissed her so passionately, all either of them could do was cling to each other mindlessly.

Parker was the one to pull away, afraid that if he kept touching her they'd end up on the floor, or in the bed two doors down the hall. "Go, Jarod," she urged him, knowing that if he stayed any longer she would tell him what was in her heart. She knew it was foolish of her to want him to say the words first, but she couldn't help a lifetime of betrayal and mistrust.

He nodded and pulled away from her, leaving her alone and vulnerable. His footsteps faded away and Parker fought against a sudden wave of tears.

"Don't, Parker," she whispered to herself fiercely, "You're overtired and for the first time in your life, you're not under the Centre's influence. Don't do something stupid, like cry because he didn't say he loves you."

Once she had her emotions under control, Parker slipped from the room, went to her bedroom, and fell into the bed gratefully. It was a long time before she was finally asleep.


	9. Chapter Eight

A/N: Good god almighty, could this actually be an update?! WOOT! I know it's been like four months and I apologize profusely. I had terrible writer's block throughout December, and then I moved in with some friends and let's just say that sometimes friends are truly enemies in disguise. ;-) I've been writing like mad all March, since I moved home and have been working on various stories I have in progress. After finally getting a Beta (Thanks a whole big bunches to LadyNiko who agreed to beta my stuff; she's been a big help to me many times on this story. Now, she gets to read everything I write in advance LOL BTW—I hope you like the changes I made.) Thursday, (March 25, 2004) I needed some MP inspiration, so I decided to have a PretenderFest. I spent hours pouring over my recorded episodes of TP and wrote down some of MP's dialogue, watched her actions, her movements, facial expressions. I feel I now have a better understanding of MP and her actions. Plus, I needed a refresher course since it had been a while since I saw many of those episodes. ***Reminder*** I gave MP the first name of Ayngil for no other reason than I thought it was cool. In Chapter Five, Jarod says Miss Parker's name after doing the horizontal bop with her, but for obvious reasons, I edited the content of that chapter and that part was, unfortunately, edited out as well. Check my bio for a link to where you can read the entire thing :-)

Again, I have lots of thanks I want to say for those who took the time to read and review, and for those who might have read but didn't review. What is a writer without a reader? Someone who simply puts a bunch of meaningless letters on a piece of paper. Thanks to Nancers, Heidi, and the rest of the loons who welcomed me home with open arms. I missed everyone!

Disclaimer: The Pretender and all its characters belong to whoever they belong to (not me) and this is obviously not for any gain, except to entertain. The Dark-Hunters and all characters associated with it belong to Sherrilyn Kenyon, who is one of my favorite authors and a nice person to boot. I simply wanted to play with everyone. :-) The song for this chappie is Deftones Change (In the House of Flies) from the Queen of the Damned Soundtrack (I thought it was apropos).

Synopsis: Miss Parker has finally decided to fight for the one thing she was convinced she could never have: A happy life with Jarod. So what does she do? Read and find out (that's half the fun, ya know?) Unfortunately, Jarod's life just got a lot more complicated.

On With the Show…

Change 

I've watched you change   
Into a fly  
I looked away  
You were on fire  
  
I watched a change  
In you  
It's like you never  
Had wings  
Now you feel  
So Alive  
I've watched you change  
  
I took you home  
Set you on the glass  
I pulled off your wings  
Then I laughed  
  
I watched a change  
In you  
It's like you never  
Had wings  
Now you feel  
So alive  
I've watched you change  
  
It's like you never  
Had wings ahhh ahh ahhh  
I look at the cross  
Then I look away  
Give you the lungs to  
Blow me away  
  
I've watched a change  
In you  
It's like you never  
Had wings  
Now you feel  
So Alive  
I've watched you change.  
  
Now you feel Alive  
You Feel Alive   
I've watched you change  
It's like you never  
Had wings ahhh ahh ahhh

*******

Chapter Eight

_Ayngil._

Ayngil.

The voice was insistent, cutting into her dreamless sleep. She wanted to ignore that voice, but she couldn't.

_Ayngil, wake up, baby._

Parker opened her eyes. She groaned as she looked over at the bright, glaring red numbers on the alarm clock next to her borrowed bed, 3:48. That meant she'd been asleep for about four hours. Great, just great.

_You can't give up, Ayngil. He needs you and you need him._

Parker wanted to desperately argue with her mother's voice. She just couldn't argue against the truth anymore. Help her, but she did need Jarod. He was hers, and she loved him. It had taken her a hell of a long time to admit it, but now that she had, she just couldn't give up on him, could she?

No, Parker decided. For years, no matter how she had rebuffed him, no matter how she had yelled at him, cursed at him or even shot at him, he'd never given up on her. Until recently, that is, she amended. She'd never given up trying to capture him when she had her mind set on it, even failure after failure. Parkers never give up; it was one of her father's favorite sayings, among the other supposed virtuous attributes that the Parkers possessed.

Whatever held Jarod back, she sure as hell wasn't going to let it stop her. Not now, not when she knew he needed her. She'd never before given up so easily on anything in her life, she wasn't about to start now.

Pulling the blankets back, Parker got up, determination hardening her features. Even if she had to storm the gates of Mount Olympus, or Tartarus itself to get Jarod's soul back, so help those that stood in her way, because she wasn't about to take no for an answer.

*******

As Jarod parked his bike in a deserted parking lot in the French Quarter, he cursed himself for being ten kinds of fool. He'd alienated the only person who could possibly save him from this life, and a stupider fool would never have been born if he didn't consider the fact that Parker was his soul mate and therefore the one woman who could return his soul to him.

The only thing that stopped him was his Dark-Hunter powers.

Before he could think about being with Parker, he needed to know what would drain his powers from him temporarily so that it would be possible to become human again. Otherwise he had no hope of a future with Parker, and a very long, lonely lifetime ahead of him as an immortal guardian.

Hell no.

For each Dark-Hunter it was different. Kyrian's out clause had been the physical sating of his pent up lust, something he hadn't done in over two thousand years. For Talon, it had been finally losing his temper and allowing himself to feel emotions he hadn't felt in over a thousand years. What would it be for Jarod? That was the catch. No one knew what would drain their powers. Talon had said it was whatever moment, feeling or emotion you equated to becoming a Dark-Hunter.

He sighed in frustration. If there was one thing he hated, it was ignorance. His mind had run simulation after simulation to come up with the solution to his problem but so far, nothing. He shrugged, not that it mattered. It wasn't as if Parker was going to be in New Orleans much longer anyway. His thoughts left him in a foul mood.

The rest of his night didn't go much better.

His mind was constantly drawn back to the haunted, longing look in Parker's eyes. For the first time in his life, Parker wanted to be with him. She was willing to forget their history and start over. Only this time, it was he who could not forget and was bound by a higher power. Gods, sometimes his life sucked. His dream was finally within reach, only his hands were tied by ancient Greek gods and blond psychics on an ego trip.

Unable to focus on more than his own personal problems, Jarod called it quits and headed back to his small, red brick house in the Garden District. He walked inside and paid little heed to the newspaper clippings lining the walls. They were literally everywhere. They ranged from airplane crashes overseas, to chemical spills and outbreaks of rare diseases in foreign countries. Reminders, all of them.

His was a dangerous gift. His mind worked like a computer, analyzing data and structuring answers to any and all puzzles based on the information provided. Even better than any computer, since he could understand elusive human emotions so well. It was why he was torturing himself now.

For decades, the Centre had used his genius for evil and for profit. Once he had escaped, he had tried to atone for it, at the cost of his family and everything else he had dreamed of while lying on his bed at night. It was those dreams that had fueled his desire to find a better life, they had kept him alive, and for all of his life, he had sacrificed them to simply survive.

He sighed heavily.

Here he was again, sacrificing his dreams for survival. All he had ever wanted was a family to cherish. His family. They were all forbidden him now. Even _starting_ a family with Parker was forbidden since he was as sterile as a surgical knife. He walked upstairs heading for his bedroom, when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Nick had termed it his "spidey-sense," which wasn't entirely inaccurate, but it annoyed Jarod when Nick referred to his precognitive abilities like that. Right now, it was going crazy and Jarod had a sneaking suspicion that there was a Daimon in his house. That freaked him out. Daimons were unable to enter someone's house, unless invited. It was one of the few vampire myths that actually wasn't a myth. How the hell a Daimon had gotten into his house, he hadn't a clue, but he was certain that they would be nothing more than a pile of dust in a few moments for disturbing him.

His whole body tense, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his katana. He crouched lower to the ground, readying himself for an attack. His heart beat roared in his head, so he took several deep breaths to calm himself. He didn't need to freak out simply because some Daimon had found a way into his house.

Rounding a corner, Jarod was stunned into inaction by a lethally beautiful woman standing in the middle of his upstairs game room. Her black eyes seemed to be reading the articles that were pinned to the walls. When she saw him, her blood red lips curved into a predatory smile.

"I've been waiting for you, Jarod."

Her voice was throaty, it might have even been seductive and sexy as hell if not for the fact that her words rung ominous in Jarod's mind. She, too, might have been seductive and sexy if not for the deadly aura she projected. There was something not quite right about the situation, aside for the fact that she was standing in his house. It had everything to do with the fear the curled in the pit of Jarod's stomach. Since when had he ever been afraid of an encounter with a Daimon?

Her hair was long and blonde; her body tall and well toned. Her face was beautiful, though it could have been carved from stone. Aside from her smile, she hid all of her emotions behind a coldness that made Jarod want to shiver in spite of himself.

Instead of letting her know she'd rattled him, Jarod affected a bored pose and raised an eyebrow, "Should I pretend I'm afraid so that you don't feel your clichéd lines are wasted on me?" he quipped.

Her lip curled. "Do not mock me, Jarod. You have no idea what you're dealing with," she told him quietly.

Jarod put the back of his right hand against his forehead and rolled his eyes, "I'm so scared," he crossed his arms and smiled in satisfaction at the fury he saw smoldering in her eyes, "Please spare me the B-movie dialogue. For once, why can't you Daimons be blunt and to the point instead of making me listen to second rate threats that my little brother could outdo even on his worst day."

That succeeded in goading her into action. In less than the blink of an eye, she moved quicker than lightening and stood before Jarod with a jagged knife pressed against his throat.

Jarod didn't so much as let himself blink. He wouldn't dare give her the satisfaction.

"Perhaps you would like to join your little brother? I forgot. You can't. You have no soul," she paused to smile a very cold and satisfied smile. "Well, since you hold so little respect for me, allow me to inform you of who I am and what my intentions are."

Jarod rolled his eyes, "As if I had a choice," he muttered under his breath, hoping she hadn't seen how her remark about his brother had affected. Deeply.

Her jaw clenched, "My name is Akira. I am part of a group I am certain you know of quite well. We call ourselves the Triumvirate."

Jarod did raise an eyebrow to that. Well, this was certainly and interesting development. Things were starting to fall in place, things he hadn't been able to piece together, now he knew why. "So you must be the assassin I've been hearing about. I must say, you're much better looking than Lyle is. Glad they decided to throw another beautiful female at me. I like to be chased, or didn't you know?" Jarod leered, and it worked. Akira seemed taken aback for a second and it was all Jarod needed to make his move.

He swung his katana, but Akira was much too quick for him. She did a back flip, avoiding his sword and then kicked him in the stomach. The she grabbed his head and brought it down for a swift, hard collision with her knee. She whirled and stabbed him in the chest with her dagger and then sliced his stomach.

Jarod jumped back and weakly blocked her next deadly swing. He brought his katana down, but she parried with her own shorter blade, then stepped in and brought her foot down on Jarod's knee. He felt bone shatter and he knew then that if he didn't get the hell out of there, she was going to kill him.

It was the first time in two years that a Daimon had been able to kick his ass. Shit.

He went down on one knee, and did the only sane thing left for him to do. He dove between her legs, which in turn, knocked Akira off balance, and gave him the few precious seconds he needed. He got up, even though his broken knee refused to hold any weight, he mad a mad and very painful dash for a set of windows that lay to his left. With the last surge of energy, Jarod launched his body through the glass panes and newspaper clippings that lined even the window and landed in a very awkward roll in his front yard.

With a sense of deja vu, he glanced over his shoulder to see Akira standing in his window. He ran for his motorcycle and sped off, hoping he could make it someplace safe before he collapsed. Already he felt the seductive call for sleep, but he wasn't safe. Until he was, he couldn't rest.

He had a feeling that Akira wasn't about to let him slip through her grasp so easily either. Which meant he wasn't safe anywhere. Damn it. Just what he needed.

*******

In the intervening hours between her waking and sunrise, Miss Parker planned her assault. Mentally, she made a list of her goals.

One – Get Jarod's soul back

Two – Do whatever it took to get Jarod's soul back in his body

Three – Destroy the Centre

Four – Have at least two children with Jarod, a boy, and a girl

Five – Live happily ever after

She smiled at her last two thoughts. But those goals would have to wait until she figured out how to accomplish her first three priorities, and Parker was just as certain that accomplishing any of them would prove much harder than she ever thought possible.

By then, the sun had risen and Parker heard the sounds of her hosts rising and descending the stairs. She pulled her borrowed sneakers on, since that was the only item of clothing she'd shed the night before after Jarod had left.

She found a bathroom and quickly washed her face, rinsed her mouth, the best she could since she had no toothbrush. She managed to smooth her hair with nothing more than her fingers and some water. What she wouldn't have given for some make-up and hairspray. Lord knew she could have used a confidence booster and she had found her hair in a sleek style and dark make-up did the job. That and her 9mm. Besides, she had a feeling that she was going to need all the confidence she could muster today.

She looked over her appearance critically. It would have to do.

As she descended the stairs, she found Kyrian, Amanda, and Marissa in the kitchen. By the guilty look she found in Amanda's pretty blue eyes and the quietness that suddenly descended on the group, Parker knew she had interrupted a conversation where she was the main topic.

Deciding to get straight to the point, Parker took a deep breath and began. "I want Jarod's soul back and you two are going to help me do it."

Amanda simply blinked, while Kyrian threw his head back and laughed, "You've got guts, lady, I'll give you that."

Parker was not impressed. She raised an eyebrow and pulled her don't-mess-with-me face that had never failed to make Broots stammer and scurry to do her bidding. Though she knew she looked less impressive in her borrowed clothes, she was still formidable.

Though Amanda was dying of curiosity to see how Miss Parker would get her stubborn husband to cooperate with her, Amanda was also smart enough to get herself and her daughter out of the line of fire. She grabbed Marissa and made quiet excuses before heading for safer ground.

Icy blue eyes regarded twinkling hazel-green eyes, until Kyrian sighed and invited Miss Parker to sit at his kitchen table. He offered her a glass of orange juice, but Parker declined.

"I'm not thirsty."

Kyrian just shrugged while he poured himself a glass. He seemed to take forever to put the carton of juice away in the refrigerator and sit across from her. Parker gritted her teeth. Patience had never been her strongest suit.

He took a very long drink from his glass, all the while regarding her with his unsettling and direct gaze. He still looked sleep tousled, with his black t-shirt and his baggy gray sweat pants. Parker never broke his gaze, instead, she inwardly seethed, but something held her back from using her caustic tongue on the man. First, he was anything but a wimp if his direct and unimpressed gaze said anything about it; and second, he held valuable information and she somehow sensed trying to interrogate him would not help her.

"I don't know you and I don't really trust you, but Jarod does and that says a lot about you," Kyrian began.

Parker released her breath through her nostrils and raised an eyebrow. "Jarod is a naïve child and you know it," she challenged.

That elicited a chuckled from Kyrian, "Yes, but he's not stupid. There's something to be said for naiveté." His next question caught her off-guard. "Were you the one who put a bullet in his back?"

She wanted to evade his question. Hell, she didn't even want to remember that night. It wasn't like she could forget it. She still had the shell from that very same bullet sitting at home, a painful reminder of what she'd done.

"How did you know?" she finally managed to ask.

Kyrian didn't answer right away. He was still studying her, looking at her as if by doing so, he could uncover all her secret motivations.

"You know, it's not as simple as it sounds. You can't just hand Jarod his soul back. It doesn't matter how much you _think_ you love him. If it's not enough, you'll fail and he will spend eternity in a hell more hellish than you can imagine."

Parker looked up then, realizing he was worried about Jarod. "If you knew how I felt about Jarod, you wouldn't be sitting there, you'd be helping me." Well, there it was. Parker almost winced as she realized what she'd said, but it had slipped out before she even realized she was going to say it.

"So you say, but if you care so much for him, then why have you been chasing him? Why did you shoot him?" Kyrian demanded.

Parker frowned, "It's complicated."

"I'm not going anywhere."

She sighed. What did she have to lose? _Jarod_. That was more than she was willing to give up. Again.

So, she told him. Parker told him everything in the simplest way she could. She explained about her family, the Centre, and her mother. She told him about how they had grown up together, how their friendship had become more than mere friendship. Then she explained how her father had twisted her feelings against Jarod. He had threatened her with Jarod's well-being, told her that if she didn't stop seeing him, he'd allow Raines to become Jarod's handler. After seeing what had happened to Timmy/Angelo, Miss Parker knew she could never allow that to happen. Not to Jarod.

Kyrian listened. He only interrupted her when he needed clarification on something. Then she told him about Jarod's escape in 1996. By then, her transformation from little girl Parker, to the Ice Queen was complete. She was everything her father had wanted her to be, completely capable of asking the man she loved to give up his freedom for hers. She didn't care; at least that was what she told herself at night whenever she looked into the empty bottle of whatever hard liquor she'd ingested enough of to intoxicate ten men.

She ended up at that horrible night two years ago. Walking in and seeing Jarod trying to kill her brother, it had shaken her to the core. She would have never thought Jarod capable of that kind of violence. She had certainly seen his fury, but it had always been carefully controlled. That was part of why she had shot Jarod in the back, because she had thought he was beyond redemption, beyond his tight control.

"I thought he was dead," she whispered, her voice hoarse with raw emotions that she had tried for the whole of her life to hide, but now it was too late. She had opened the gate and those feelings were flooding her, overwhelming her. "And I was devastated."

Kyrian nodded. By now, he'd finished three glasses of orange juice and a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast during the telling of Parker's story.

"Since I found out Jarod was alive, I had to deceive everyone, including myself, that all I wanted was to bring him back to the Centre. I was angry with him for not even letting me know he was alive. Hell, I wasn't angry, I was furious. Not one goddamn word in two years."

"You know he couldn't contact you. To everyone who knew him before he took his Dark-Hunter oaths, he was as good as dead," Kyrian explained.

Parker nodded, "I know that now, but that doesn't relieve the agony I felt before I knew Jarod was alive."

After that, they lapsed into an awkward silence. Parker was exhausted, but she also felt as if she had relieved a huge burden that she hadn't realized she'd been carrying.

Finally, Kyrian nodded, "I can't help you, Miss Parker."

Miss Parker felt as if she'd just been slapped.

"But I can point you in the right direction."

Parker shot Kyrian a glare, but the man just smiled innocently.

"All right, so where do I go from here? Artemis has Jarod's soul, right?" Here she paused, it was so hard to truly believe everything Jarod and Amanda had told her, but she had to believe it. She looked Kyrian straight in the eye, "How would I get in contact with her?"

Kyrian choked, then started laughing; "You don't want to do that, Miss Parker. Artemis would literally scratch your eyes out for even daring to disturb her. Trust me on this. We don't call her the Bitch Goddess for nothing."

The smile that slowly spread itself across Miss Parker's face was well known to those who knew the Ice Queen side of her all too well, or had felt the bite of her caustic tongue once too many times. It was the same smile that had even made Raines back up a pace.

It didn't have quite the same affect on Kyrian, who had stared death straight in the eyes and laughed for the hell of it many a time. He just sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, totally unimpressed. "I hope you're not thinking of confronting Artemis."

Her smile got wider, she leaned forward, her voice low, "I am not about to let some spoiled, little virgin Bitch Goddess intimidate me."

Kyrian's face turned an interesting shade of red as he laughed very loudly over Parker's comment. His earlier statement ringing true in his ears. She did have guts. He wasn't about to allow her to enrage Artemis; even if he did think it would be funny as hell to watch them go at it. Even he wasn't that dumb. Plus he was no longer immortal and he'd already had a god bolt hurled at him by a very pissed off Aphrodite, he didn't think he'd come out so well if he was hit today. Self-preservation sucked, but it was better than being fried and never getting to see his daughter grow up.

He shook his head after calming down. "No, Miss Parker. Trust me. Acheron is the only one who can help you with this. I'll call him and tell him your wishes. He'll make the decision then, whether or not to petition Artemis for Jarod's soul."

Parker raised a single eyebrow. "That's not good enough," she persisted, "I want to know how to contact Artemis."

"No."

"No?" All right, so intimidation wasn't working on Kyrian. She had figured it wouldn't, but old habits seldom die a bloodless death. There was one other tactic at her disposal and she was not above using it.

She brought to mind all her unhappiness, a lifetime of it, and allowed the pain to bring tears to her eyes. She blinked them back and used them to her advantage. She looked down, and when she looked up, her blue eyes looked shiny and her lip quivered just a bit.

"Listen, I know you have no reason to trust me. But, what if Acheron can't get Jarod's soul back? I can't risk losing Jarod again. I've loved him since I was a child. He's mine, damn it, and I am not giving him up without a fight. If I have to face down the wrath of an angry goddess, then so be it. Please, Kyrian," she left the last part of her less than eloquent speech hanging open, her eyes pleading with Kyrian to relent.

"Oh, all right," Kyrian groaned, feeling like an ass for even wanting to believe her when he could plainly see she was putting on an act. The fact was, though his psychic abilities weren't nearly as strong as they used to be when he was still a Dark-Hunter, he could still read some of her thoughts. However, he also sensed that she truly did care about Jarod, though for obvious reasons, it was hard for her to show her true emotions.

Gods, what a tangle.

Parker smiled a triumphant smile.

"I'm a fool for doing this, but to summon any god or goddess, you must merely speak their name and then say _I summon you to human form_," Kyrian told her.

Miss Parker opened her mouth to repeat the words, but Kyrian shushed her, his eyes wide with panic. "For Zeus' sake, don't say the words now. Do you want her to appear in my kitchen? How would I explain that to Amanda? _Oh, by the way dear, I let our guest summon my ex-boss and she got pissed and demolished our kitchen_," Kyrian shook his head, "Promise me you'll at least wait until after I talk to Ash."

Parker wanted to make no such promise, but she could see that Kyrian wasn't about to let her out of his sight until she did. She shrugged, "Of course."

Relieved, Kyrian stood with a stretch and a groan, he threw a suspicious look Parker's way before he left the kitchen.

Satisfied, Miss Parker stood. That left her with only one thing to, find someplace where she could not be disturbed in summoning Artemis and negotiating a release for Jarod's soul. She climbed the stairs and entered the guest bedroom she'd slept in the night before and locked the door behind her.

She leaned against the door and opened her mouth, "Artemis, I summon you to human form," she said loudly at the ceiling. She waited.

Nothing happened.

"Damn it," she muttered, ready to go give Kyrian a lashing for lying to her when there was a brilliant flash of white light and a beautiful redhead appeared before her. She was tall and statuesque and so beautiful, Parker knew in that one moment why Kyrian had referred to her as the Bitch Goddess. 

In her experience, the more beautiful a woman was, the deadlier, though her mother was the only exception to that rule. With sparkling, unnaturally green, green eyes and beautiful curling red hair, artfully arranged in a Grecian style and a nearly sheer peplos wrapped around her supine form, the goddess was possibly one of the most beautiful women Parker had ever seen. Her skin was olive in tone and her face was classic in its beauty.

A look of pure contempt crossed the redhead's face as she glanced at her surroundings. "Who the hell are you to summon me, mortal?" the goddess demanded petulantly, her accented and cultured voice ill concealed her distaste.

Parker smiled. Looked like Kyrian hadn't lied after all. "So you're Artemis, goddess of the hunt?" Parker stepped forward and regarded the woman before her with her icy composure in place, her blue eyes giving nothing away.

Artemis glared, "I asked you a question, mortal," she demanded.

If only she wasn't dressed in blue jeans and pink sweater. She would have looked much more imposing in her corporate power suit and four-inch high heels. However, she could make do. Parker crossed her arms and smiled coldly, "I'm Miss Parker, and I think you've just met your match, Artemis."


End file.
